Requiem for the Holy Grail
by 400PercentSync
Summary: Torn from his world, Giorno Giovanna finds himself in a strange new universe filled with unknown concepts such as magic; summoned into a ritual that offers him salvation. Now he's faced with a challenge that even he might not be able to handle, it'll take everything he has to survive among legendary heroes. (Rewrite completed, ongoing)
1. Chapter 0: Prelude

It had happened in an instant, without warning the world spun out of control around him. Time itself seemed accelerate, faster and faster with each passing moment. Mountains crumbled, oceans dried up, everything around him turned to dust.

Why was he unaffected, was it some sort of divine protection? No, it was nothing so extravagant. He possessed a power unmatched by those around him, one which allowed him to pass through the destruction of the universe unharmed.

Time spiralled around him in a maelstrom of devastation, planets, galaxies, everything died. This had to be the work of some unknown enemy, but he had no way of knowing who. There, floating in the void at the end of the universe, Giorno Giovanna screamed in desperation. One chance, that was all he needed. If there was anything akin to a higher power, save him from this nightmare.

And then, in a flash of immaculate, blinding light, the vast emptiness of space was no more. From the darkness a new universe was birthed around him, incalculable shimmering lights filling the sky. Under his feet, new land appeared, the dawn of an entire world playing out around him. Molten lava turned to stone, life burst forth across the baron crust. Great beasts humans had only imaged walked around him, but they too passed into history.

The acceleration of time did not stop, the universe threatening to be broken down and rebuilt a second time. He wouldn't allow it; he hadn't stolen the king's throne just to be defeated by an enemy he couldn't even see. Raising his hands up, his body glowed with an intense gold aura.

Bursting from his body, a humanoid, almost mechanical figure appeared behind. 'Standing' next to its wielder, this ethereal figure mimicked Giorno's motions. His eyes flared with determination, and with three simple words he opposed the universe itself.

"_Gold Experience Requiem!"_

The name of his ability, his power that had granted him his dream. He resisted the unknown strength that pulled the universe endlessly towards destruction, and the king's word was _law_. Time slowed around him, returning to the way it was before. His Requiem was a supreme power, not even the will of the gods could defy its command.

He alone allowed this world to exist, without him it would have decayed like his own. Whoever was responsible for the destruction of his world would pay for their crimes. He wandered the world, but in the end he found nothing. There was no grand villain, no one to take out his anger on. Had the enemy continued to travel through time, leaving Giorno behind in this universe?

For what purpose then had he saved this world? What good was his heroic deed if it meant stranding him in this alien place? He was completely, totally alone in this world. His friends, his life, and his dream were all shattered. And it had only taken an instant, what a monstrous enemy.

The only thing he had left were the clothes on his back, and the power within his soul. But he continued to walk the earth, hoping to one day find an escape. But he could find no exit, no way to return to his home. While his face appeared stoic, almost statuesque, the pain inside of his heart threatened to break him. The loneliness of being separated from his friends, the lack of a clear destination in his life… it took everything inside of him to continue to walk forward.

There were times he tried to settle down, to adjust to life in this place. But they felt like distant memories now, having never lasted long. How many years, how many years had he aimlessly traveled across this familiar yet foreign world.

Almost lifelessly, he shuffled through a small hamlet on the water. This place resembled his Italy, but none of his comrades were here. There was no Passione, his gang. No Mista, or Bruno, not a single familiar face. He ended up in a back alley, drawn by the sound of some commotion.

His back against a wall, a young boy was flanked by half a dozen older teens, all armed with makeshift weapons. He clutched a bag to his chest, the contents appearing to be several valuable looking pieces of Jewelry. Without a second thought he approached them, placing his hand on the metal pipe in the nearest teen's hand.

"I suggest you leave." His cold eyes glared through the street punk, but he didn't back down. All of them turned to face him, smirking violently. "Fine, don't say I didn't warn you."

Drawing out a power he hadn't relied on in a long time, His face strained as a flash of golden light covered his hand. The pipe in his grip transformed, turning into a massive serpent. The snake wrapped around the teen's arm, its fangs sinking deep into his neck. With a terrified shout the others fled the scene, leaving Giorno and the young boy alone with the convulsing body of the punk.

"Hey gramps, who… what are you?" looking up at him with aw, the boy's mouth hung agape at the actions of Giorno.

"Me? I'm a Gang- I'm nobody, forget you saw any of this." turning away, Giorno slowly walked back down the alley the way he came.

A thunderous bang echoed around him, a sudden agony sending a shock wave across his body. Reaching down to his chest, his hand felt the warm sticky sensation of fresh blood. Falling to one knee, he looked over his shoulder to see the downed delinquent, not quite dead from the snake's venom wielding a handgun.

Had his powered waned from disuse? Normally such a wound would have been easy for him to repair, but he couldn't draw out any more power. What a foolish ending, was this really happening? He hadn't achieved his goals, he hadn't even seen a single sign of the enemy he searched for.

Staring down at his blood soaked hands, the aging skin on them reminded him of how long he had been walking forward. Perhaps now it was finally time to rest, time to finally give in to the will of fate. Laying his wearing head against the cold cobblestone below him, Giorno closed his eyes as a soft breeze blew through his grayed hair.

Giorno Giovanna died with but a single regret, the regret that he was unable to fulfill his final mission. If he had just one more chance, if he could redo things… things could have turned out differently. But humans didn't get second chances at life, he knew that. Even his Requiem couldn't undo his own death, to do so would take no less than a miracle.

But he was a hero to this world, having prevented its premature destruction at the hands of a mysterious enemy. Even if the population didn't recognize him as such, even if he was unaware of it himself, the world recognized his deeds. And for the man who saved the world… his rest would be short lived.

Outside of time and space, existing as nothing more than a mere concept waited the throne of heroes. Those whose deeds shaped the world had their souls recorded on it, able to be called forth by the spirit of the world itself in times of need. Heroic Spirits, those men and women who extemporized humanity, Giorno had inadvertently found himself within such a system.

Written in said record was one vital piece of information, one that would allow him to get the second chance he so desired. A hero with unfinished business, called forth by a third party accessing the system to fight for their wish. Giorno Giovanna awakened from his eternal rest in a black void, a seemingly endless amount of information flowing into his mind.

A battle royale between seven teams, consisting of one Heroic Spirit and one magic user who summoned them. And before he had time to process the fact that magic existed at all he began to feel the pull of his own summons. If he could survive this battle, this war, he would be granted a single wish. His final chance, his redemption awaited, he had no choice but to take it.

* * *

A man in a red blazer stood before an intricate circle of arcane symbols. Holding an ornate ruby topped walking stick out before him, a strange energy filled the room. Unnatural wind rushed around him, but the man remained firmly in place. This man was a Magus, one of the seven percipient in the event known as the Holy Grail War. He would summon a Heroic Spirit to serve as a 'Servant' and take the role of their Master, providing them with the magical energy needed to remain materialized in the world.

He had known his entire life that this day was coming, and prepared perfectly for it. His selection of catalyst was flawless, he would no doubt summon the most powerful hero, the original hero. Everything about his spell was set to summon said hero, Gilgamesh, the world's oldest heroic legend. The mana in his body surged, and he began his incantation.

"Hear me, and answer my call! Silver, iron, and stone of the foundation, in the name of my great ancestor, the Archmagus Schweinorg!"

Within the Greater Grail system, a hero that should have been there was absent. Gilgamesh, the king of heroes was nowhere to be found. Instead, another soul was prepared for summoning. There was no saying what caused this to transpire, the complex system of the Grail War far too intricate to truly understand.

"Let the descending winds be like a wall, let the gates in all directions be shut. Let the three-forked roads to the Kingdom revolve. Let it be filled. Again. Again. Again. Again."

The magical energy permeating the room swirled to the center of the circle, concentrating in one place. The room shuddered, the air itself seeming to vibrate with power.

"From the Seventh Heaven, attended to by three great words of power, come forth from the ring of restraint, Protector of the Balance!"

With a blast of explosive wind, a golden light filled the circle, and where once there was nothing now stood a man. His blonde hair, tied back in a ponytail with his bangs curled into three swirls swayed in the magical winds. Standing still, as if he were carved out of marble, Giorno Giovanna appeared in the summoning circle in the place of the Magi's intended Servant. Why he had been chosen over Gilgamesh wasn't something he was aware of, and he didn't care to question it. This was his chance, granted to him by whatever twisted fate he had, and he wouldn't squander it wondering why it was given to him.

Raising his right hand up, he took hold of the edge of the heart shaped opening of his flamboyant purple jacket embroidered with a pattern of butterflies and flowers, tugging it to the side. Lowering his right hand straight down, he twisted his upper body to the side and spread his legs wide. Locking eyes with the man before him, the bizarre servant spoke.

"I ask you, are you my Master?"

The Man, presumably his Master, stood in silence. An electric shock ran through his brain, as if staring at this strange young man before him had caused his higher mental functions to cease completely. He wasn't entirely sure, but he had a bad feeling that this man was not the famed Babylonian king, unless the people of that time had invented modern high fashion. Finally, after what felt like an entirety, he managed to respond.

"I am the Magus, Tokiomi Tohsaka. I have summoned you to fight with me in this ritual, I am humbled by your acceptance of my call." He was a Magus, setbacks were to be expected. He wouldn't let this ruin his plans, it wasn't like he had failed to summon any Servant after all. While his dreams of easy victory slowly faded from his mind, he wasn't about to throw in the towel.

* * *

All the information racing through Giorno's mind threatened to overwhelm his senses. The rush of knowledge, both about this world and about himself was like nothing he could have imagined. New concepts such as Magi, Heroic Spirits and the Holy Grail War flooded into his mind. In that sea of information he realized something fundamental had changed about him, not summoned at the age he was at death, time had reversed for his body, giving him the form he held in his prime during his teens.

His gray hair was golden blonde once more, and not a single line of age showed on his seventeen year old face. The strength flowing through his body was familiar yet strange all the same, it had been so long since he'd felt it to this level.

His power, his 'Stand', no longer existed, not in the same form at least. Heroic Spirits powers and abilities when summoned as Servant were altered to fit in their temporary vessels. The proof of their heroic deeds, their Noble Phantasm, his 'Stand' now existed as a conceptual armament within his body. The Servant system likely had no other way of interpreting his abilities, though considering his class he had to be thankful they hadn't taken an even more twisted shape.

Seven Servants, each with a different 'Class' that denoted their abilities and served as a mask of their true identity. He wasn't sure how he had ended up in it, but his instincts told him his class was 'Archer.' Disregarding that he possessed no bow, his powers could presumably be linked to 'projectiles' of some nature, so it wasn't completely far off from reality.

But that didn't matter to him, the only thing he cared about was victory. He would claim the grail at all costs, and achieve his dream. Giorno Giovanna _would_ return to his world, and his steel resolve wouldn't waver until he held that wish granting grail in his two hands.


	2. Chapter 1: Butterflies

How had it all gone so wrong? Every part of his plan was laid out in meticulous detail, but still he stood here, looking at the most flamboyant man he had ever seen in his life. Surprising a magus was no easy feat; the association was no stranger to its share of eccentrics after all. He had meant to summon the King of Heroes from the oldest of legends, but instead he had called forth an unknown entity.

Quite a few things about this Servant struck him as odd; the most obvious one was his outfit. A blue suit with an opening at the chest in the shape of a heart, covered in a pattern of butterflies with several large ladybug shaped brooches. First of all, what kind of Heroic Spirit wears a suit?

The next thing that was bothering him was that this Servant was young, most likely a teenager around seventeen. The stone faced boy stood motionless across from him, unmoving from the summoning circle. He caught a glimpse of the boy's eyes and almost faltered in his calm posture. What he saw was no child's eyes. This boy had the eyes of a killer, someone who had seen more horror than even a Magus would be expected to see.

His goal was seeming quite distant now, had he summoned the King of Heroes as intended the war would be as good as won, but he had no way of knowing if this hero could live up to those expectations. No matter, he was a Magus; setbacks were commonplace in his work. He _would_ win the war and reach the Root of the World, with or without his intended servant.

It quickly became apparent the Servant wasn't planning to say anything and Tokiomi was starting to get frustrated, but he couldn't let it show on his face. If he showed weakness now his relationship with the Servant before him would surely be ruined from the start. The servant motioned with his eyes towards Tokiomi's apprentice and partner in the war, Kirei Kotomine. The Tohsaka head finally realized why the servant had said nothing since his initial summoning.

"Kirei, would you please excuse us, I would like to have a word with my Servant in private." Dismissing the former Priest with a wave, he exited the study promptly and without a word. "Now then, I assume you don't wish to speak in front of Kotomine, though I assure you he's an ally to our cause."

The fabulous Servant nodded silently and remained quiet; Tokiomi didn't know how much longer he could stay patient in this situation. He had to break the stalemate of conversation, so perhaps a simple question first?

"What is your name?"

"…" The Servant just stared at him, remaining completely silent, his face locked in the same stoic expression as always. Tokiomi immediately began to worry. Had he offended him? Many Heroes were quite arrogant, did he speak too bluntly?

"I am Tokiomi Tohsaka, head of the Tohsaka household and overseer of this land." He bowed deeply, hoping to alleviate any offence he may have caused to the Heroic Spirit. "If we're to work together in this grand ritual it would benefit me greatly if I knew which Hero I had called forth, would you do me the honor of knowing your name?"

"Sorry, whatever hopes you're still holding onto about my identity are wrong." The mysterious servant replied, his tone blunt and serious. "I'm not a hero."

"Not a hero? Surely you jest, it's impossible to be summoned by the Grail without being within the Throne of Heroes!" Agitation began to seep into his tone with each word; he was losing his cool faster by the second, why did this have to happen to him? The Archer class held the skill 'Independent action', and it was showing already in his Servant's unwillingness to cooperate.

"Alright, I'm Giorno Giovanna, the Boss of Passione." In Tokiomi's recollection there were no Italian heroes under that name, and he had definitely never heard of whatever Passione was meant to be.

The full weight of Tokiomi's confusion came crashing down on him when the strange servant in contemporary dress began to pose. One hand outstretched and the other tugging on the heart shaped opening of his shirt, his legs spread wide. He also couldn't understand why his long blonde hair was flowing out to the side; there was no wind inside his study to speak of. What the hell kind of Archer was this anyways?

He had definitely summoned the Archer class, he could feel it from his connection, had something gone _that_ wrong as to place an unsuitable spirit in the Archer class? As the servant continued to pose he felt a strong resistance to letting him anywhere near his daughter, he wouldn't let this man influence her young impressionable mind.

His shoulders slumped; the summoning was turning out more taxing than he anticipated, though it was more of a mental exhaustion than a physical one. Having not looked into his connection with the servant before him too deeply, he took this chance to assess the abilities of the man he had summoned. He almost cried out in shock from the results, refusing to believe them until he checked again.

Archer was one of the three Knight classes; the servants summoned in said classes were stronger than the others on average. And yet this servant of his was _weak_, having abilities that were closer to the assassin class than the Knight classes. Had he not clearly seen them in his mind he wouldn't have believed them; his connection as a magus translating the abstract concepts of ability into a graded lettering system his human mind could process.

"Archer, could you enlighten me as to why your skills and abilities are all _well_ below average for your class," unable to comprehend it on his own, he was forced to take the worst possible action and ask the servant themselves. "Yet you possess Agility and a Noble Phantasm that exceed the limits of my understanding as a magus?"

The servant stared at him for a time, was he angered or simply forming a response? His level of agility wouldn't be too mismatched with his class, but to possess a Noble Phantasm of that rank without being an easily recognizable Hero was unheard of.

After several minutes of this he was starting to lose his patience, when the boy finally spoke up.

"Archer? I don't think I ever used any bows in my life," The servant said something unbelievable, it was impossible for Tokiomi to have failed so much that he'd summoned a spirit into the wrong class. That was a mistake a novice would make, he couldn't accept that!

"The grail would not have placed you in that class if you weren't a fit for it, surely you're only joking?" His words came out strained; this bizarre servant was chipping away at his ability to remain collected. "Your legend must be connected to some form of ranged combat; it need not be an actual bow."

"You asked me to explain my power, yes?" The young servant's body shifted, he leaned in towards Tokiomi and placed his hand on one of the ladybug shaped brooches on his suit. "But expressing it in words is…difficult. So witness for yourself the power of my _Stand."_

A warm golden light flowed from his hand into the broach, and in an instant it was gone, a butterfly in its place. The butterfly flew, exactly as a real butterfly would, dancing around the room and the servant. Tokiomi's stunned expression was written all over his face, not even a magus of the highest caliber would be capable of such a stunt.

"Y-Your ability is to make things into butterflies? Or do those broaches posses the ability to shift into animals, perhaps?" He tried to rationalize what he had seen, his mind filled with utter confusion.

"Close, but it's nothing as simple as that." The butterfly landed on his suit and transformed back into a lifeless broach in the shape of a ladybug. "Even I don't know the limits of this ability, but it's one I've possessed since I was born."

"You can't possibly be telling me that you… can transform any object into a living construct at will?" If that were true, it would certainly be fitting of such an absurd ranking. But it couldn't possibly be that unless this Servant was an actual divine being, which seemed quite unlikely.

"I don't know what you mean by living construct, but my ability is one to create _life_. I can breathe life into any object, and it becomes a living thing that is just as real as any other." Reaching behind him he took a book from the shelves of Tokiomi's study and in an instant, a tree had sprouted from its pages. "Anything I create is under my direct control as well. Well, does this help you understand my power?"

"L-Life? Absurd, not even true magic could create life so easily! You are not a divine existence; your powers shouldn't be able to go against the laws of the world like this!" Tokiomi couldn't believe it, he wouldn't believe it, this was an absurdity far above anything even a heroic spirit should posses.

"I don't follow your world's rules," with a simple statement, the servant bluntly refuted everything he had just said.

At this moment Tokiomi felt as if the servant was standing in absolute defiance of everything he knew about the world, his shock completely paralyzing him. He had thought that he understood everything, that nothing could surprise him anymore. He was _wrong_.

"Well master, are you convinced, or do you need to see more?" His servant's words pierced through his frozen mind, the thought of witnessing more of this terrified him. But at the same time, his curiosity as a magus was beginning to get the better of him. In the end he nodded in agreement to the young servant.

"Show me the extent of your power."

* * *

An hour passed, and Tokiomi was again and again stunned by his servant's sheer power. Life of all shapes and sizes were born from his hand; frogs, rats, plants, and even a disembodied human hand all appeared before him. And as easily as they appeared, they returned to the objects they once were.

Tokiomi examined a small white mouse that had been born from one of his magical jewels; it was without a doubt a living thing, completely indistinguishable from a real mouse. No, it _was_ a real mouse. It was an ability without peer, surpassing true magic and entering the realms of the gods. He had intended to summon a demigod, but he instead brought forth something indescribably more powerful.

"This power of yours, your 'stand' as you called it…" Tokiomi placed the mouse down and it returned to its creator, becoming a small ruby once more. "It's marvelous! Never in my life did I expect to see anything like this, even in the Holy Grail War!"

This power was indeed incredible, but he was unsure if it was one that could win the war, as his servant's physical abilities outside of it were not whole impressive. A strong servant would have no trouble avoiding a few animals on their way to attack him directly, a troubling matter indeed. He became quiet for a time, plans on how to use this power in the war effectively forming in the back of his mind when his servant spoke again.

"If you're wondering how this ability could be used in combat, you should know one more detail of my creations."

"There's even more to it? I can't believe what I'm hearing! This _must_ be the end of your powers, what else could you possibly be withholding!" On the surface his voice was angered, but in carried a hint of curiosity, he wanted to know the full depths of this Servant's Noble Phantasm. What other wondrous powers could it hold?

"Should one of my creations be attacked, the damage it would receive will be reflected back on the attacker instead." The Servant leaned against the wall of the study, crossing his arms. "I also possess another ability, though I'm slightly unsure if it still exists within this body as my powers seem to have become somewhat… altered by this Throne of Heroes, Although I don't see why I wouldn't still possess it."

Another ability? Tokiomi's head began to spin with the possibilities, if the first power he displayed was creation of life itself, his unknown second power could be nearly anything imaginable. Tokiomi was once again filled with excitement, his doubts about being able to win the war melted away.

"Show me this 'other power' of yours then, I doubt it'll be more impressive than what you've shown me already however."

The servant nodded and stopped leaning against the wall, he headed towards the door and turned his head back to the magus. Tokiomi quickly realized he wanted him to follow, and so he let himself be led out of his mansion by the golden haired boy.

"I wouldn't be able to show you this power here, not the full extent of it anyway…"

Twenty minutes passed and they finally found themselves in a secluded location of a nearby park, trees surrounded them on all sides, blocking them from unwanted viewership. The servant flexed his hands and took up a combat stance, Tokiomi's body stiffened; did his Servant intend to betray him here?

He almost used a command seal on instinct before his servant spook up.

"I won't attack you; actually it's _you_ who needs to attack me."

"Are you mad, why would I attack my own servant? That's it isn't it; you have no second power and are simply making fun of me now, am I correct?"

"Attack me, preferably with your strongest possible spell, and then see for yourself."

Tokiomi fought off all his instincts to run, forcing himself to begin chanting a spell. His magic circuits fired at once, releasing their maximum output in an instant. He traced a complex magic sigil in the air before him with his staff, aiming at the servant that had gained some distance from him.

A raging sphere of fire burst from his staff, sending the burning sensation of using magic down his spine. It flew through the air and engulfed the servant, who didn't even move to dodge. But then from within the fire, he heard his servants voice, a shout that cut through the air.

"Gold Experience Requiem!"

* * *

After having left his instructor and partner in the war's study, Kirei Kotomine headed to where he had been going often for the past few months. He arrived shortly at an old warehouse on the edge of town, and after he passed through the bounded field set up around it, its true form was revealed. His Servant's workshop, filled with endless scraps and parts of various styles of construct, looking like a twisted graveyard of puppets. Golems, magical creations in the form of humans, almost like robots created through magic.

"Caster, I've returned from Tokiomi's. The servant he summoned was… unexpected." He addressed the darkness as he descended a set of stairs into the warehouse basement, but there was no reply from his Servant but the sounds of his work.

Tokiomi had wanted him to summon Assassin, so that he might serve as a scout for the war effort without drawing attention to Tokiomi himself. This plan was ruined by the whims of the grail, which placed the Servant of Magic, Caster, into his hands. Tokiomi had seemed on the verge of exploding with rage that day, but he had soon calmed down when he learned of the servant's abilities.

The master of golems, Solomon Ibn Gabriol. The skill at which he worked was unparalleled in modern magecraft, creating golems of higher quality than anything imaginable, and in a fraction of the time as the magi of this era. In only a few months he had created enough golems to fend off an army, though none of them could match the more powerful servants and hope to win, several were on par with the expected strength of the servant Assassin.

Tokiomi had formed a new plan around this servant, a plan only possible due to his partnership with Kirei and his father, Risei. None suspected that the church's official overseer would have joined forces with one of the participants, an alliance that would allow him to manipulate the information flow of the war to his team's advantage.

For his plan to work he required the real Assassin to not be present, but his intel thankfully pointed to Assassin and it's master both being uninterested in the grail. Kirei looked over the golem that was to be the lynchpin to the plan, its lifeless body seemed unimpressive to the former priest, could this really fool anyone?

He looked at Caster, who was as always at his desk in his workshop. The Servant was quite obsessive, barely speaking or paying any heed to his master. The only thing that mattered to him was his work, more and more golems were created with each passing day, but none of them seemed to satisfy the servant.

Suddenly, the servant stopped what he was doing briefly, wrote something down and handed it to a golem by his side. The golem moved to Kirei and handed him the scrawled note, written on it were only two words, "They've left."

Kirei knew immediately what it meant, he'd had the servant's familiars watching the Tohsaka mansion in secret for some time, and Caster must have just detected them leaving the building. He had no idea where he could be going at this time of night; this wasn't a part of the plan.

"Caster, I'm going to follow, do you know where they're going?" the masked servant nodded, the golem that handed him the note started to leave the workshop. He quickly followed his guide out, and they rushed towards the Tohsaka head and his strange servant.

It wasn't long before they had caught up to them in the Fuyuki Park, Kirei and his golem escort arrived outsize a grove of trees just in time to witness it. The cry of "Gold Experience Requiem!" reached his ears, but he could hardly hear it. His ears were buzzing as if his head was full of static, it may have been the result of witnessing that boy's power.

"Caster, you saw it too… right?" he turned to the golem, speaking through its link with his servant. The golem nodded and replied with a blunt "affirmative."

"What… was that?" he had thought himself to be quite understanding of the world of magi, having studied under Tokiomi for quite some time, in a wide range of subjects. But nothing he had learned had prepared him for what he had just seen. He was forced to turn to his servant for understanding, but it seemed he was at an equal loss.

"I know not, Master. It would appear the servant Archer has done 'nothing', but that is impossible." The Caster class spoke, more words than he had said in weeks to Kirei, it seemed he was much more talkative when not directly doing so. "More information is required for me to make any assumptions."

The corner of Kirei's lips curled into a slight smirk, something he himself did not yet realize was happening was taking place within him. The life he found so utterly dull and boring was starting to brighten up before his eyes; _something_ about that Servant awakened his inner desires at that moment.

"Caster, keep a closer watch on them from now on, but don't let your eyes be seen, I need to know more about this Archer." The golem bowed and silently disappeared into the shadows.

Numerous new thoughts swirled through his head as he quietly exited the foggy park, had his Teacher or Servant noticed his presence they hadn't showed it, the inner workings of Kirei's own plans continued in silence.

* * *

As the fireball had swallowed his servant Tokiomi's heart was gripped with fear, had the servant's ability failed? But then he was staring at his servant as if nothing had happened, they only thing remaining from the mock battle was the sound of his servant calling forth the name of his second Noble Phantasm. _Gold Experience Requiem,_ the name alone brimmed with power, a power he could barely understand.

But the realization of what happened slowly dawned on him, and all reason within the Magus drained away. He started to laugh, to laugh at the absurdity of his servant. Every time he thought it was over, this strange unknown hero brought out another trick from his sleeve. Everything seemed to click into place, he had _won_. The war had yet to officially start, but he had already achieved victory with this.

No one could beat this servant, it was inconceivable. No servant summoned by another party could ever hope to match his Archer's level; they would have to be a true god to even come close! The servant looked at his master, who was still uncontrollably laughing like a madman, with his emotionless visage. His face unchanging, he spoke to his master.

"Are you satisfied with my level of power now? Or do you require another demonstration?"

Finally managing to calm his laughter, Tokiomi faced his servant and smiled. What he had initially viewed as a failure on his part was truly a blessing in disguise. His gripped his staff tightly; his heart beat faster at the prospects of winning. Everything might not have gone as planned, but it didn't matter as long as the result was the same.

He would achieve his ambitions, no matter what.

* * *

"Archer, I think it's time to begin this war. Follow me; we'll discuss the plan on the way." The elder magus smirked and strode out of the park, each step filled with determination. The stoic servant followed behind him without a word, listening to his Master's plan to start the war.

"We'll have plenty of time to deal with the true Assassin of the war later, for now this small misdirection will serve to show your power _and_ throw off the plans of the other masters." The Tohsaka head's explanation finished as they arrived back at his mansion, he left the servant to his own devices and entered the building in order to contact his apprentice.

Giorno wasn't sure about his master's plan, but he nodded in agreement anyway. It was best to play the part of loyal servant right now, even if he didn't feel much towards his 'Master' he wasn't about to stab him in the back.

The plan was a simple one, since the Tohsaka head had aligned himself with the master of Caster and the Church's overseer of the war, they would use both to their advantage. With Risei's aid, they obscured the master of Assassin, who helpfully showed no signs of revealing themselves in the war at this time. Then, they spread misinformation that Kirei was in fact the master of Assassin and not Caster.

What followed was a simple deception that would fool none who saw it in person, but those watching via familiar would at least be temporarily tricked. Kirei would stage an attack on his master, pretending to betray him, and use a specially designed golem for the job. The golem was based on the recorded appearances of the Assassin classes from previous wars, a lanky humanoid figure clad all in black besides from a pure white mask in the shape of a skull.

He waited in standby on the roof of the manor, hidden in his spirit form. They would enact this plan tonight, though Giorno thought it was wholly unnecessary, he could defeat the other servants straight up if he had to. But his master was determined to take this course of action.

Giorno looked over his master's garden; it was far too standard an affair to really interest him, though it did show at least some consideration for the plan behind its layout. More interesting to him however, was the layer upon layer of magical security spells placed around the area. As a spiritual entity it was quite easy for him to see the spells, Tokiomi had called them Bounded Fields. They were quite an interesting sight, though they couldn't _prevent_ an intruder and only alerted them of the enemy's presence, so why did he have so many of them?

His master's over the top levels of magical security aside, it was time for the show to begin. Slinking through the shadows was what outwardly appeared to be the servant Assassin, on the apparent mission to eliminate the Tohsaka head from the running early on. Giorno mentally sighed at the thought of this farce, but it didn't show through his stony exterior.

"To waltz into my Master's territory so brazenly… you must be the enemy!" He materialized on cue, following his script to the letter. One of the main purposes of this event was to draw attention away from Kirei so he could act in the shadows, but another was born out of Tokiomi's arrogance at seeing his Servant's power firsthand. He wanted the other masters to see and fear his servant, a mental warfare only someone with no doubts about winning would employ.

The 'Assassin' looked at him, seemingly afraid and startled at the sight of him; it added a nice touch to the affair. The real servant struck a pose, his right hand pointed towards the golem-assassin as he leaned to the left, his other hand resting on his thigh. To those curious onlookers spying on the events, the servant before them seemed completely out of place and ridiculous. Were it not for the second part of this act they would likely think he was a worthless servant not fit to be an enemy, but his power would show them otherwise.

Giorno Giovanna leapt from the rooftop and landed with a loud crash on the ground below, the area around him erupting in a bright golden glow. Countless thorn covered vines ripped out of the dirt all around him and stuck for the golem, twisting like tentacles to ensnare their target.

The golem-assassin's right hand stuck out with a short knife and sliced one of the vines clean through. What no one expected, not even Kirei Kotomine, was for the vine to appear fine a moment later. The golem's right arm exploded with blood-like oils, sliced down the middle in the same pattern as the vine had been a moment ago.

The golem staggered backwards, and without any hesitation Giorno commanded his vines to bind the fake servant. They wrapped up the golem completely aside from its head; it struggled in vain to escape as the gold haired boy slowly walked towards it. Giorno cracked his knuckles as gold energy surrounded his fists, but the show wasn't over yet. He lessened the vines grip on the golem ever so slightly; none would know he had even done it.

The golem wrenched itself free, numerous wounds appearing over its body from the backlash of damaging Giorno's vines. As a golem it felt no pain however, and continued its attack unimpeded. It leapt forward and stabbed its knife at his throat. Expressionless, Giorno raised his hands and readied his attack. He waited until the last second before the golem's attack connected, then his arm moved faster than even a servant would normally be able to.

"Muda muda muda!" with a shout his fists crashed into the golem nearly at the speed of sound, a massive barrage of punches aimed at every part of its body. In an instant the golem was rendered a pile of scraps, completely torn apart in midair by his attack. "Muda muda, someone on your level couldn't even scratch me."

Giorno turned away from the defeated golem, its body enchanted to disintegrate on death to mimic a servant's spiritual body fading away. Giorno wiped artificial blood from his face as he left the garden, his vines fading out of existence at his command. He hoped his performance had been worth it; surely revealing his powers unnecessarily was unwise? Oh well, what's done is done, he entered the Tohsaka household intent on removing the blood from his precious clothing before anything else.

* * *

"So, Assassin was killed already… Disappointing," A beast of a man said to the other figure in the room, a much smaller man than the first. "I was hoping to at least test my skill against them, though I doubt they'd give me much of a challenge!"

The large, boisterous man sat cross legged on the floor of the room, his hands busy with a guidebook of the local area. He flipped through pages, his eyes never leaving the page as he conversed with the young magus.

"So how'd it happen, eh? What of the Servant who killed Assassin, you got a good look at them didn't you?"

"Eh? Uhh, yeah. I saw him…" The boy faltered even though it was a question he should have anticipated, he was unable to answer for longer than he expected. "Tohsaka's Servant… it has to either be Archer or Caster, but the way it created those vines seems to rule out the former."

"Oh? A summoner is he? That's quite a high class magecraft; he should be an entertaining opponent indeed!" The man laughed, his deep voice bouncing off the walls of the small room. "No wonder he defeated Assassin so easily!"

"R-Rider! I told you not to be so loud at night; you'll wake up the neighbors!" The young magus' plea would likely fall on deaf ears once again, this Servant was helplessly unable to listen. "T-Tohsaka's servant might have used summoning, but I'm not sure he was really a summoner."

The unreal sized man looked at his Master with a puzzled expression, putting down his book of maps.

"A Magus who defeats his opponents by summoning can be nothing but a summoner, what else could he be?"

"That's just it, he didn't use summoning to beat Assassin, he used… he used his fists." The boy nearly fell down from the force of his servant standing to his full height in an instant. Rider's eyes shined with excitement and he slapped his master on the back with a massive hand nearly the size of his head.

"All right, I'm fired up now! Let us go find our enemies before anyone else gets taken out like that Assassin! The Servant nearly dragged his Master out of the house they were using as a base, a look of terror frozen on the boy's face. Unknown to them however, the true Assassin still stalked the streets at that very moment.

* * *

In the dead of night, a hunter stalked her prey. Her petite body was completely at odds with what she was- what she was doing. Two murderers slipped through the shadows, rapidly nearing the climax of their night. They had no idea what was about to happen, how could they?

The killers stopped, the young girl silently signaling to the older man to hold back. He looked somewhat disappointed, but he shrugged and agreed. The young girl's barely clothed body moved, so quiet it was almost as if a ghost was gliding across the ground.

In her hand was a lantern, had it always been there? An old lantern that looked straight out of a museum, the flame inside was unlit.

The woman in front of the pair was still unaware of their presence, the lantern was likely unnecessary. But her master would like it; he enjoyed the spectacles she could perform. She reached into the open lantern, a flame bursting to life inside it from an unknown source. From the flame billowed endless amounts of blackness, a smog of miasma unlike anything the man had ever seen, the alleyway quickly filled with the smoke-like fog.

The fog was unnatural outside of its appearance as well; it twisted and contorted like a living creature. It writhed around the young girl who remained inside of it, never once actually coming in contact with her. She approached the woman who had stopped at a door and was struggling to find something in her purse, most likely her keys. Her frail, pale hand grasped the handle of one of the strangely shaped knives strapped to her waist.

The fog surrounded the woman; she didn't even have time to react before its effect took hold. Its poison seeped into her skin, filling her lungs with its toxic smog. The mists of death, one of her two powers as the Servant class Assassin, an average person would be knocked unconscious instantly. It seemed like her master had picked his prey well, as she was still standing after inhaling the fumes. Good, it would be too boring if she had passed out right away.

Moving faster than the human eye could see, the child Assassin appeared behind her target. The woman's eyes were locked in an expression of pure terror; she couldn't possibly have known what was happening to her after all. If it weren't for the fog constricting her breath she might have screamed when she hear the voice behind her whisper in her ear.

"I'm so sorry, forgive me…" She held out the blade, a strange mockery of a medical scalpel. Its metal edge gleamed in the moonlight, it would surely be the death of this woman before it, just one swipe would end it… But the servant wasn't done yet; she turned away from the woman and called her weapon's name, activating the curse that was placed on the knife.

"Maria the Ripper…" her soft voice barely reached her master, as she evoked her Noble Phantasm a tear ran down her eye.

Unable to scream, the woman's face merely contorted in even greater horror. Blades ripped her apart with no warning, slicing her to pieces from the inside out. The young woman's body fell apart in a bloody mess, never even seeing the face of her attacker. The man ran over to the young servant, his face filled with childlike glee.

"Awesome, you're awesome! That was totally brutal, I love it!"

The man's praise fell on deaf ears, the servant Assassin had turned back to the body of the woman she had killed and knelt down next to it. She pulled a part of the victim's body out, possibly her spleen, and pressed it against her face. Every time the same ritual, her master didn't fully understand, but he let her do it anyways. She cried uncontrollably and rubbed the organ against her face, staining her white body red.

Her ritual complete she stood up and returned to her master, her face and hair covered in fresh blood. The man placed his head on top of her bloodsoaked head, almost appearing like a father praising his daughter were it not for the true context. She smiled softly as he patted her head.

He would freely admit that he found the site of this young girl covered in blood quite attractive if he was asked, thankfully nobody had. The pair of murderers silently left the alley, no trace of them having been there outside of the newly added corpse. This murder would probably be on the news tomorrow; he could only imagine what kind of headline such a horrible killing would receive!

The young Assassin turned to her Master; her innocent looking eyes seemed so pure they could only be fakes, an illusion.

"There's fighting nearby…" he didn't know what she meant at first, but quickly worked it out. He didn't know much about this war he had been pulled into, and he just wanted to experience more and more interesting deaths.

"Hm? That Holy Grail thing's started then? It doesn't really interest me, but you want it right?" His Servant nodded her face just like a child who wanted a new toy for their birthday. "If you want to go, I won't stop you. Just make sure you come back safe so you can show me more interesting deaths!"

Assassin jumped to the top of a nearby building at his words, she disappeared into the darkness with inhuman swiftness. Her master might not have a wish for the grail, but she did, and it was the most important thing to her. She couldn't win the war if she didn't at least see the powers of the other Servants, so she would go and observe the fight.

* * *

The fatigue from his day was starting to catch up in to him. He sighed and fell into a chair in his study, exhausted. Tokiomi Tohsaka had a headache, but he had made it through the first day. If he didn't learn to cope with his Servant he could end up dead for reasons unrelated to the battle at hand, a disheartening thought. He reached over to his desk and took hold of the glass on its edge, bringing it to his lips. The strong smell of alcohol assaulted his senses; he didn't often drink, but today seemed appropriate.

A golden haired boy appeared before him, materializing from his spiritual form. He looked at his master, saw the drink in his hand, and spoke.

"Celebrating our 'first' victory of the war, Master?" His voice was as collected as always, but Tokiomi could only feel that his Servant was mocking him. The servant folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "Well Master, was the show entertaining?"

"Yes yes, very impressive. The other masters should be at least a little concerned with confronting you; they won't go out of their way to start a fight with us now, as according to the plan." Tokiomi took another sip of his drink and placed it down again, his eyes focused on his Servant. "And now that nobody is looking for Assassin, we can eliminate them at our leisure. I'll have Kotomine's golems search the city for them, even the real thing will be no match for you."

"I'm glad you think so highly of me, but I'm not so sure a real fight will go as you expect, no offense Master." His Servant brushed his golden hair back with one hand, looking more like a fashion model then a legendary hero. "Though we may find out sooner than I'd thought, I suppose you can't feel it yourself, but there seems to be quite a scene unfolding not far from here."

Giorno's eyes looked towards the presences' he was sensing, as if he was able to see straight through the walls of Tokiomi's study.

"The rest of the participants seem to be having a party without us, Master. I can sense, four, no, five servants headed to the same location."

Five Servants gathered at the same place? Such a battle royale of heroes would be rare even in the age of gods, and was completely unheard of in this Holy Grail War. Tokiomi saw a flash of inspiration at this; he bolted out of his chair and quickly approached his Servant.

"Archer, if things go our way this could be a chance to nearly end the war in one night. Go there but remain in spirit form for the time being, observe the others and wait to see if an opportunity arises to engage."

"Understood, I'll gauge our enemy's strength, but won't engage in a battle I can't win." Nodding, the servant turned away from the Magus and started to walk out of the room. "Although I've never been great at following orders…"

Without another word, the unusual Archer vanished from the room, heading for the other Servants gathering at the downtown dock warehouse. A sudden pang of dread gripped Tokiomi's heart, why did he have to summon the Servant Class with the highest potential for Independent Action? He suddenly needed another drink, taking the glass from his desk once more. This was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 2: Experience

He had promised not to start a fight he couldn't win. This was of course an empty promise, he refused to even imagine failure. Any battle he got involved in would end in his victory, there was no other way. The only way to achieve his goals was to win, the Grail had to fall into his hands or it was all for nothing.

Remaining in spirit form he headed to the dock warehouse, the location of an unusual gathering of servants. Depending on their strengths he could potentially end the war tonight, though he suspected dealing with so many legendary heroes would be more troublesome than that. He was confident in his powers, with his Requiem he would be unbeatable, he would have to be.

He leapt onto a nearby shipping crate and crept towards the sounds of battle. He had been expecting a fight between Servants to be quite a spectacle, but nothing prepared him for what he saw. Two armored figures, one clad in blue and the other green, clashed with a ferocity that even made him take a step back. The Servant in green's twin spears spun around him like whirlwinds, but each strike was parried by the other Servant's 'weapon'.

Judging by the woman clad in blue armor's movements, she was wielding a European style longsword. She must be the Saber Class, then. As for why her sword was invisible, it must be the same reason Lancer's spears were hidden underneath cloth wrappings, one's signature weapon as a renowned hero could easily give away any of the Servant's weaknesses.

The fight raged like a storm, neither side getting any advantage on the other. The surrounding crates were quickly reduced to rubble around the combatants. Giorno doubted if he could even interfere with this fight without being instantly struck down as he approached, even with his Stand's agility. He didn't find the concept likely, but there was a possibility one of these Servants possessed a power that could defeat his Requiem, he would have to wait and see what abilities they wielded.

After another exchange of blows, both servants backed off. Giorno could feel the tension in the area; in silence they stared at one another. Giorno's eyes darted around the battlefield, taking in every detail he was unable to see while observing the fight. He caught sight of a woman behind Saber, presumably her master. In the corner of his eye there was something unexpected, he twisted around to face the distance.

On the edge of a pier, standing perfectly still but completely exposed, was a young girl. Her short white hair fluttered in the wind as an unnerving fog rolled in, almost as if it was emanating from the girl. His back turned from the fight he was watching, Giorno lost sight of the two dueling Servants and focused on the new addition to the scene.

Unmoving, the scantily dressed girl watched the fight; her eyes seemed more focused on Saber than Lancer however. Giorno could feel it, she had the same aura as the others; this girl must be a Servant. She was alone with no master in sight, an opportunity he wasn't going to miss.

He heard the fight behind him resume, but he ignored it and rushed forward still in spirit form. If the small Servant had noticed, she showed no sign of it as he approached. He materialized behind her, an action he immediately regretted. The fog seeped into his body almost instantly and he found himself struggling to breathe, was this fog her Noble Phantasm?

"Sneak attacks won't work very well on me… mister," an innocent, childlike voice filled his ears, completely at odds with the killing intent he felt from the tiny girl. She spun around and leapt at him, a strange knife gripped reverse style in her bandaged right hand. He moved to dodge; an attack at that speed was nothing he thought, but then a silver flash cut into his neck.

"…!" He rolled out of the way and clasped his hand against the shallow cut, another second and he would have suffered a severe blow. That attack was fast sure, but it shouldn't have been anything he had to worry about. He quickly retaliated with a fast jab, but his hand sluggishly moved through the air. The girl easily dodged his attack, a new cut appearing on his wrist. He refused to flinch, this level of pain was nothing he couldn't handle, but he had to admit it was fairly deep.

Something was happening; in another life he would have called it the work of an enemy Stand, but no such enemies existed at this point. The remained only one answer, this slowness was caused by this girl's power as a heroic spirit, her Noble Phantasm.

Careless, utterly careless, how had he walked right into its effects without realizing. Confident he could win any battle, he hadn't thought anyone could touch him. But his stand didn't protect him from the effects of this, whatever it was. He leapt back from another slash, narrowly avoiding lethal damage once more.

If he hadn't been unnaturally slowed down, this fight would be over in an instant, her speed was nothing against his normal agility. He had no choice but to retreat, he punched his hand into the ground, a tree rapidly sprouted beneath his fist, propelling him into the air.

"…!" like a living creature, the smoke-like fog lashed out at him, following him into the sky. As soon as his feet hit the ground he was in an all out sprint, the writing mass of fog chasing closely behind him. Damn, he didn't have any opening to counterattack with this thing on his back.

The fog chased him across the pier, and soon he was surrounded again. Its poison sunk into his body once more, and he felt himself slow down. Not long after he had been taken in by the mystical fog again, the small frame of the real Assassin of the war dashed past him, releasing two quick slashes aimed at his vital points.

Damn, he wasn't fast enough to dodge these last blows. As he expected, a fight against a real servant was nothing like the mock battle from before. The blades were within an inch of taking his life; his Gold Experience couldn't revive the dead, so he couldn't rely on that here.

"F-Flowers?!" alarmed, the young girl Assassin jumped back and disappeared into the fog. Her blades had failed to hit their mark, stopped at the last moment by vibrant purple flowers that seemed to be growing out of her target's body. "Cool trick big brother, are you a magician?" She giggled like an innocent child, but her words carried an unnatural malice with them.

Giorno couldn't see anything though this smog, and it was getting harder to breathe by the second, he was running out of time. With no way of knowing what direction she would attack from next, it seemed hopeless, his quick use of Gold Experience had saved him this time, but could he do it again? Giorno calmed himself and steeled his resolve, he couldn't lose yet, he wasn't even close to attaining his dream, he wouldn't fall to his first opponent. Closing his eyes, he focused all his senses on the sounds around him, if he couldn't see her, he'd just have to hear her!

"What?!" he let out a rare show of emotion in his voice, as the Assassin dove past him, her blades connecting with his flesh. The middle and ring finger of his right hand were cleanly severed as he desperately moved to block a cut to his neck. It was impossible; she had moved completely silently, the air pressure around them hadn't even changed. He had no way of detecting her direction of attack until it was almost too late, but there had to be an out for him, and if there wasn't he would just have to make one himself!

He ran through the fog, not knowing what direction he headed in, but it was all he could do. At least if he was on the move he would make a slightly harder target, even if she was faster than him while they were in this fog. Her voice echoed through the cloud of miasma; a twisted child's laugh more fitting an urban legend than a heroic spirit.

"It's no use big brother; you can't escape my mist that easily!" He didn't listen to her, he just continued to run, it was all he could do now, it had no choice but to work! With every step his plan grew closer to completion, but would he make it in time? The next moments were critical; he slid to a stop within the fog and waited.

"Found yo~u!" Assassin's playful tone bounced around him, proving utterly useless in tracking her position, but it didn't matter anymore. He might be in check, but he still had one move left.

A golden glow surrounded his fists, but he still held them loose at his side, taking no stance. He waited, a single second stretched on for what seemed like forever, had he returned to the throne of heroes? No, this was the real world, and he wasn't planning to go back to that place any time soon. Now!

"Muda!" he spun to his right, throwing a left straight punch into the seemingly empty air. The sound of bones breaking accompanied the feeling of the impact; he didn't have time to worry about whose bones it came from. An unexpected metal clatter followed the sound of Assassin's body hitting the pier, and the smog began to fade away, revealing the truth of what had happened.

"You might be accustomed to fighting in the fog, but it doesn't mean you can see clearly in it."

Giorno posed as he spoke, his confidence returning with his victory over the fog. "I could tell by the way you moved against me, you couldn't tell exactly where I was, just the general idea."

The pier was covered in flowers and other plants, vines and grass that hadn't been there before surrounded the two Servants. The Girl-Assassin held her chest with one hand, her breathing ragged. It was obvious now that had happened, the Servant with power over life itself created plants with every step as he ran, creating a 'Barrier' of flowers. Because of his link to the life he creates, he could feel the change in the plants as she ran through them, and used it to track her when both sight and sound failed him.

Panting heavily, the servant Assassin clenched her teeth and jumped back, grabbing an antique lamp from the ground before returning to spirit form and vanishing from his sight. With a body that small even a Servant should feel some serious damage from his punch; she must have retreated for now, even so it was his victory. He'd learned firsthand the power of the Assassin of this war; he wouldn't let her get away again, she was no longer any match for him.

With a flash of gold the blood dripping from his missing fingers reconfigured into the form of his lost digits, as if they had never detached. A non lethal blow against him would only be a temporary hindrance as long as he had Gold Experience. He flexed his repaired hand to check if it worked properly, then returned to spirit form and headed back to the duel between Saber and Lancer, which sounded to be going on still.

The battle between the two servants was as fierce as it had been before he left, as if nothing had changed in the time during his encounter with Assassin. The swordswoman in blue and the spearman in green fought evenly, invisible blade against concealed spears. Lancer moved like a whirlwind, his two polearms dancing around him as if they were his own arms. Even with his enhanced reflexes Giorno found it hard for his eyes to follow them, as expected of a battle between legendary heroes.

Two quick thrusts shot towards Saber, but she easily deflected them, her expression unchanging. The determination in her eyes looked like his own just then, someone who held a strong resolve to fight for their own desires. All the servants in this war were summoned because they had a wish they wanted granted, she was no exception, but Giorno would crush the other six dreams before him and claim his prize.

"That's enough, Lancer…" a voice cut through the fight, and the Servant in green leapt back. An arrogant voice that likely belonged to Lancer's master, who was nowhere to be seen, with a cold tone befitting a coward who hid himself from the fight, continued to speak. "Your playtime is over. End this fight now; I give you permission to use your Noble Phantasm."

"As you command, master…" Lancer dropped the short spear in his left hand and began to unwind the wrappings on his long spear, so that was his main weapon was it? The purple cloth fell away to reveal a shining red spear, its form creating a striking contrast with the surrounding area. Lancer charged forward with an increased vigor, so swiftly he almost appeared to teleport. The fight that had once been an even match-up had now become wholly one sided; Saber was pushed back with every strike of Lancer's fury, his spear cutting through the darkness in a blur of crimson.

She had dodged all his attacks, she was obviously wary of the power of his revealed Noble Phantasm. Giorno's eyes struggled to even keep up with their movements now, it was nothing like before. Giorno, who was accustomed to fights where a single blow could end the fight, wasn't used to prolonged exchanges of blows, even with his speed a fight with either of these two wouldn't be easy. Saber was pushed back even farther, almost reaching back to where her master stood in silence.

A thrust of the crimson spear shot through the air like lightning, and Saber who now stood in front of her master couldn't dodge and place her master in harm's way. The spear impacted against her invisible sword, a flash of gold appeared for a moment before it returned to being invisible. Saber jumped back but the spear continued to chase her, crashing against her invisible sword again and again.

"That should about do it, Saber." Lancer began to speak; he adjusted the grip on his spear. "I've memorized the length and shape of your blade, its invisibility is no longer an advantage for you!" He rushed back in, his spear moving even more skillfully than before; did this servant have no limits to his prowess in battle?

Saber attempted to dodge a strike against her body, possibly intending it to deflect off her armor harmlessly. The sound of a blade cutting into flesh and a splash of red though the sky, the spear of his struck her in the right side of her body. There were no gaps in her armor there, what a powerful spear to punch right through her steel plate like it was nothing. No, something isn't right about that, but what? Giorno quickly realized what it was when the two servants backed off, Saber's armor was undamaged. It cut through the spell that turned her sword invisible and bypassed her armor completely, Giorno likely figured out the answer at the same time that Saber had.

"Your spear… cuts through magic, yes?" Saber returned to a fighting stance while her master began to cast a spell on her wounded side, presumably for healing purposes "Since my armor is formed from my mana, it's nothing by a hindrance against your Noble Phantasm." After she stopped talking, Saber's armor started to glow, and vanished.

She was putting everything on her next strike, even Giorno could tell from where he was standing, without armor she would take severe damage if he landed a blow against her. A bold move to be sure, one she likely wouldn't even think of doing if she didn't feel backed into a corner. With a burst of energy, Saber dashed forward with inhuman speed she hadn't shown before in this fight. An upward slash robbed Lancer of his spear easily, he leapt back to avoid her follow up blow, but she kept running in. As she approached the unarmored Lancer once more, a slight smirk appeared on his face. Having noticed this, she moved to escape but wasn't quite fast enough. Lancer kicked the ground below his feet, the short spear he'd dropped before landing effortlessly in his hands, and with a swift movement the golden spear dug into Saber's right hand.

In the time it took Saber to retreat, Lancer had regained possession of his long spear and now wielded both spears, their forms exposed. Saber's right hand hung loose against her side, bleeding heavily. Had she not removed her armor that attack wouldn't have been possible, what a careless move.

"Irisviel, please heal my hand" she called out to her master through her strained expression, the composure she had before cracked under the pressure of her current situation.

"I-I'm trying, it should have healed by now!" her master however, seemed even more desperate than her servant's. Giorno didn't blame her either; the fight had turned completely in Lancer's favor. When Saber realized her hand wasn't healing, she seemed to realize something, her eyes locked on Lancer's.

"I should have known, how foolish of me to not recognize you from the start, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne," She spoke a name Giorno didn't recognize, she must be referring to Lancer.

Giorno didn't know much about history or myth, so the name was meaningless to him, perhaps Tokiomi would know? More important to him however, was the Servant's abilities; Giorno began to weigh the possibilities of this Diarmuid's powers being a threat to him. One spear cuts through magic, but did his Gold Experience count as magic? The other spear seemed to inflict wounds that don't heal, would he be unable to repair damage to himself with his Stand after that? There were too many questions, but the answer for the moment was this Lancer was not an opponent he should take lightly.

"I don't deserve the honor of being recognized by name by the King of Knights themselves, but it changes nothing, I must defeat you for my master." The Servant in green bowed to the blue clad Saber and readied his spears, clearly intending to continue the fight. Everyone froze at that moment, even Giorno, as a blast of thunder rocketed across the dock. Giorno glanced over towards the sound and saw an unexpected sight, a massive chariot flying through the sky towards them, pulled by bulls.

For a moment he doubted what he was seeing was even real, the chariot raced through the sky on a road formed out of lightning. Its giant driver hollered out as he rode towards the fight, aimed for the space where the two Servants had been locked in battle moments before.

"Make way, make way!" his deep voice boomed with confidence as he neared the fight, he must have been one of the other Servants Giorno had felt headed this way, that just left one more unaccounted for. "You two, lay down your arms, a King approaches!"

The larger than life chariot practically crashed into the open space beside the other servants, coming to an abrupt halt with an impact that rivaled the thunder it had created on the way. The giant of a man behind the reigns of the chariot was an equally impressive sight, towering over everyone around him; he looked more like a statue than a real person. The new servant raised his fist into the air and shouted, his powerful voice echoing across the dock.

"I am Iskandar, the King of Conquerors! In these times you might know me by the name 'Alexander the Great', and I'm participating in this war as the Rider class!"

Giorno wasn't sure if he should be impressed with the way he brazenly revealed himself, or if he should consider him a fool for doing so. Revealing one's name as a Heroic Spirit could allow the other parties to learn your weaknesses easier. Giorno would have no problem with that as an unknown entity of this world, but even he knew who Alexander the Great was. Next to the giant Rider, cowering in fear was a very small man; probably around the age Giorno's body was currently in, what a contesting master compared to the Massive Iskandar.

"R-Rider! What are you doing, you i-idiot!" The diminutive master pleaded with his Servant to no avail, he didn't seem to be in very good control of the situation. "D-Don't just tell them your name, didn't you understand anything I told you!"

"Waver Velvet, is it?" Lancer's unseen master laughed, but remained in hiding. "I wondered who would be stupid enough to steal my summoning catalyst, but I never expected it would be you, you seemed far too much of a coward to enter the war." The master of Rider, now identified as Waver, lost his composure even more at the sound of his voice; his face lost whatever remained of its color from Rider's stunt.

"Shall I give you another lesson my poor misguided student? How about some first hand training in the terror of a fight between Masters in the Holy Grail War? Understand the terror of being outclassed and regret the path your life took to this moment!" Lancer's Master's voice seethed with rage, his arrogant words completely ignoring everything but the young boy they were directed at.

His expression was unwavering, but his emotions had begun to stir inside himself, Giorno Giovanna was reminded of his previous life by this Master. An arrogant 'master' who refused to show his own face, the controller of Lancer had no right to be saying these words to anyone, Tokiomi was going to be quite upset with him for what he was about to do.

"Those are strong words for someone who won't even show his own face, Master of Lancer." Giorno materialized on top of a nearby shipping crate and jumped down to ground level. All the other servants froze at his entrance; guess they weren't expecting any more guests, or maybe they knew of his 'demonstration' from before. "A master who chooses to ride with his Servant despite his own fear is far braver than you, who can't even show his face behind his own servant. Maybe I should give you a lesson in 'terror' as well."

"My thoughts exactly, Tohsaka's Servant took the words right out of my mouth!" The beast of a man let out a bellowing laugh, turning to face the direction of Lancer's Master. "Only a master who can ride into battle with me is worthy of commanding the King of Conquerors!"

"Looks like we had more of an audience then I realized, Saber. I'm honored." Lancer turned to face the new Servant. "So, what brings you here, Servant of Tohsaka I believe?"

"Caster here has clearly witnessed and understood my power and will come to join me in conquest, am I wrong?" Rider practically leapt out of his chariot, a large cloud of dust exploded around him from the impact of his landing. "An offer I would like to make to you two as well, join with me and we can easily take control of the entire world!"

The looks on the faces of all those involved were all various levels of shock, sans Giorno and his stony exterior. Waver looked like he was about to pass out at any moment, and even the stoic Lancer and Saber were showing signs of surprise. No one moved for over a minute, they just stared at the eccentric servant. Lancer was the first to regain his composure and break the silence.

"My apologies, King of Conquerors, as I have already pledged myself to my Master and cannot betray that trust." He bowed respectfully to the statuesque man and took a few steps back, distancing himself evenly from all three of the other servants.

"I cannot become your subject, Iskandar," Saber spoke up next, not wanting to be shown up by Lancer. "I am after all, a king myself; to bow to another king is out of the question." Having been shot down by two of the three, Rider looked to Giorno, his eyes almost pleading with him to say yes.

"Sorry, I don't think I can agree to it either. I served a 'King' once, and I don't plan to ever be in that position again." Giorno struck his signature pose as he spoke, an act more startling to the other servants then Rider's actions it seemed, based on their faces. There was something bothering Giorno, it was something Rider had said that he hadn't really let sink in until now. "Rider, I'm afraid you've also got it wrong, I am not the 'Caster' of this war."

"D-Don't be ridiculous!" Waver, who had probably meant to stay out of the conversation, clasped his hand over his mouth at his words and shrunk back into the chariot.

"I have to agree with my master here, do you claim to be the Archer class then?" Rider turned to Giorno, a smile crept across his face. "An Archer who fights with summoned plants and his own fists? Interesting! I look forward to the day we're locked into glorious battle, but are you sure you won't join me?"

"Quite sure, I wouldn't be the 'Boss' if I bowed to anyone, so I'll have to refuse." Giorno's hair fluttered in an unnatural wind, his face and pose unfaltering as he spoke. "My name is Giorno Giovanna, the Boss of Passione. Knowing my name will be no help in defeating me, so I have no problem telling you this much."

His actions were similar to Rider's, but everyone witness to them could feel the difference of their words. Rider revealed himself to attempt to use his fame to sway the others and not for a belief that he could win even when his name was known. Giorno wasn't like that, he knew his name carried no meaning in this world; his declaration was that of confidence, a bold claim to victory from the start. This strange man in contemporary dress, who had an unrecognizable name, was saying his victory wasn't a question but a logical outcome. The lighthearted tone that Rider had brought to the scene was shattered by the cold gaze of the golden haired boy.

"Giorno… Giovanna?" Lancer spoke slowly, likely deep in thought over the name. "I don't know any heroes by that name, nor any of your… description"

"I'd be surprised if you had. To be fair, I don't recognize your name either, Diarmuid." Even with his emotionless tone, his words seemed to carry a strong malice behind them; Lancer unconsciously took a step back. Giorno Giovanna had no desire to fight these heroes, but his goal sat beyond them, everyone in this war is an obstacle in the way of his dream. It was unfortunate, but his only option was to crush those who got in his way.

"I'd say you sound overconfident, boy… But you are the only one here to have already attained a victory in this war, even if it was just Assassin." Rider put his hands on his hips and smirked. "And what a victory it was! My Master said you destroyed them utterly in mere moments, impressive, very impressive!"

Despite Rider's personality, the tension on the docks was thick enough to cut with a knife. Four Servants stared each other down, all waiting to make a move after the others. Giorno wondered if Tokiomi was watching this. If he was he was probably about to have a heart attack at his Servant's actions. Giorno was getting tired of this stalemate however, and was prepared to make his move. He knew the most about Lancer's powers, so he'd take him down first, Saber and Rider would come later.

His entire body tensed up instinctively, something felt wrong. An immense bloodlust filled the surrounding area, but it wasn't coming from any of the present servants. His eyes shifted towards the new feeling, and he saw it. A knight clad head to toe in armor, the form of which was obscured by an unnatural aura that wrapped him like black flames. Just looking at the servant was enough to tell exactly what it was, a form driven by hatred and instinct, Berserker.

"Looks like we have an uninvited guest," Giorno turned to the Berserker, his fists clenched. A Servant class that focused entirely on raw power had no chance against him, what was about to happen wouldn't even be able to be called a fight, at least that's what he thought. Before he took a single step towards the mad knight, he had been sent flying.

"..!"

What just happened? He must have been hit, but that Berserker shouldn't be able to match his speed. Damn, he got overconfident. He crashed into a nearby shipping crate, a cloud of dust billowing out from the impact and obscuring the new battle.

"Well, King of Conquerors, looks like you have another potential recruit." Lancer's sarcasm cut through the air almost as sharply as his spears, aimed at the red headed giant.

"This one doesn't seem like he'd take well to negotiations, damn, and I was doing so well with the other too!" Rider seemed completely unfazed by Giorno's rejection of his previous offer, seemingly disappointed that his prospective recruit had just been smashed to pieces in an instant. "So Assassin was just a fluke, huh? How disheartening, I thought he would make a fine general in my army!"

"I wouldn't be so sure, Rider." This time the one to speak was Saber, who had been the most silent since this scene had begun. She didn't let her guard down, but her face seemed to relax somewhat as the focus shifted towards the new fight and off her. "His presence hasn't vanished yet."

As the dust cleared, Giorno's form came back into view, standing atop the rubble of the metal crate. He seemed no worse for wear, a few minor scratches but nothing to imply he had taken the slightest bit of serious damage. Golden energy wrapped his arms within its warm light, and he thrust his hand into the side of another crate. The servants and masters who had their eyes locked on him bore witness to his power, as what was once a crate charged towards Berserker in the form of an elephant.

"Not just plants, but animals too? This power would suit my army perfectly!" Rider let out an impressed whistle and laughed at the thought of this 'Giorno Giovanna' joining him in conquest, together they could be unstoppable.

The elephant rushed towards its target, fully under the control of the young Servant. Even if Berserker could react in time to counterattack, the fight was over when his power 'damage reflection' took hold. A servant of the Berserker class wouldn't be smart enough to dodge out of the way either, he had won. Berserker's black clad arms thrust out and took hold of the charging elephants left tusk, and with an inhumanly strong swing hurled the beast into the sea behind him. With a crack, the beast's tusk had been torn off its body and now resided in the hands of the Berserker. Blood exploded from within the mad Servant's helmet, but the damage didn't seem to bother him.

"Impossible… did he resist the 'reflection'?" Giorno's stone like exterior seemed to harden even further, and he walked towards the new Servant with an intense determination. Too many things were odd, Berserker hadn't taken the full damage from the reflection, nor had he acted like a mindless brawler. No, that was the action of a well trained fighter, how was that possible? Berserker rushed in, the tusk of the elephant turned black in his hands as he wielded it like a massive club.

"Muda muda muda!" Giorno's fists lashed out, aiming for Berserker's vital points, but each of his blows was blocked by the tusk club. He jumped back to Avoid berserker's mad swing; the air pressure from the blow alone was enough to rip his suit, if that had hit him… Giorno had to get rid of that weapon; he'd smash it to pieces with his next attack. A kick aimed with all his strength at the tusk, golden energy flowing from his leg as he impacted the improvised weapon, but it wouldn't shatter.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅！" Berserker roared; an incomprehensible, inhuman sound. Berserker wasn't as fast as Giorno was, but he made up for that with pure skill, a level of skill Berserker shouldn't be able to use. But the contradictory Berserker wouldn't let up his relentless attacks, it was everything Giorno could do to avoid the hits, he didn't even have enough time to use Gold Experience. The full force of Berserker's next swing hit him in the arm and he went flying, the feeling of his bones cracking soon followed.

Giorno thoughts were a jumbled mess of emotions, a fight against such a simple minded opponent should have gone smoothly, but he was being pushed back. He was angry, his emotions would not show on his face, but this mad dog was filling him with rage. But was the rage truly directed at Berserker or at himself for failing to win as easily as he wanted? He didn't have time to contemplate it as berserker rushed in once more, he was on the ground, and he had no time to escape this blow, we this as far as his resolve could take him?

"It's not over yet!" Giorno's unbroken arm glowed gold and touched the ground next to him, a tree rapidly sprouting underneath him and throwing him into the air. His escape was short-lived however, as Berserker leapt into the air to follow him, how annoyingly persistent. Giorno deflected Berserker's flying strike with a swift kick, propelling him away from the raging knight. They landed at nearly the exact same time, and Berserker took no time in returning to the fight, preventing Giorno from healing his arm once again.

"So that's what it is…" Lancer spoke softly as he analyzed the fight going on before him. "That tusk has become the madman's noble phantasm." Saber and Rider both seemed surprised by this, but they couldn't deny that it was extremely possible with the way berserker was handling it. Giorno would have come to the same conclusion if he wasn't in such a desperate situation.

He wouldn't run, he didn't need to retreat yet. Giorno ran towards the charging Servant instead, his unbroken arm pulled back to strike. Berserker swung at him from the left, and he dodged it at the last possible second. Kicking off the ground, he launched himself into an uppercut. Golden energy swelled from his hand as his fist smashed into Berserker's helm, sending the servant staggering back. When Gold Experience touches something without life, that thing becomes alive, but it had a different effect on those already alive. Berserker's mind should now be overflowing with 'life', paralyzing his actions for a short time.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅！" The defiant servant roared, its madness was too strong to be overcome by Giorno's Stand. For a beast fighting with nothing but rage, being unable to think was already its normal state of being. The black knight kicked Giorno with one of its armored legs and sent him flying; he crashed into the ground and rolled to a stop before he even realized what happened. Would he have to use 'that'? Was he truly forced so into a corner as to bring out his trump card already, in his second real battle of the war? He had hoped to hold onto that secret for a little longer, but it wasn't looking like he would be able to.

The turn of the battle suddenly changed however with the thunderous roar of a chariot's wheels, Berserker was sent rolling by Rider's reckless charge, one that seemed to greatly upset his master. He stopped between Giorno and the Berserker and leapt out of his chariot, drawing a Greek style short sword in one hand.

"Looks like you could use some help, Archer-who-uses-his-fists. Besides, I can't let you have all the fun can I?" Rider laughed, his cape flapping in the wind behind him as he approached the downed Servant.

The berserker lunged at the new opponent, a massive swing that could easily kill a normal human in one hit. Rider didn't falter however; he stepped into the range of the swing instead, his Sword clashing against the tusk in a shower of sparks, deflecting the attack off course. With a fury rivaled only by Berserker, he went on the attack, the fight quickly turned into a blur of the two servants, their trade of blows reaching an absurd speed.

Giorno didn't like it, but he had to admit Rider's intervention had saved him. He wasted no time and got back on his feet, placing his hand on his wounds, a golden light covering him. The bones that had been broken were mended, or rather, they had been replaced by his power. The broken fragments transformed into whole bones in an instant; healing himself with his power was extremely painful as it wasn't its intended use, but he didn't let it show on his face. He wouldn't have had time to heal without Rider, but he wasn't about to let his victory be stolen from him, it was time for him to get serious. Rider had stepped back from the fight for a mere moment, but it was enough time for him, he rushed back in.

"Gold Experience!" Out of habit he called out the name of his stand, but of course no golden figure appeared behind him, those days were long passed. From the ground below his feet a tangle of vines shot forth, wrapping Berserker in their binding hold as he approached. With all the strength he could muster, he unleashed a barrage of punches at the black servant, all aimed at its stolen weapon. "This doesn't belong to you."

His flurry ended in an instant, and with a final kick the tusk shattered completely, unable to withstand the assault any longer even with Berserker's power within it. The bound Servant struggled against the vines, but the more it ripped or tore at them, the more damage it took instead. Giorno didn't even acknowledge Rider's involvement, he just walked towards the Berserker, his pray.

He would end it now and claim the first real victory of this Holy Grail War; he would be one step closer to his dream.

Berserker's body strained against the vines restraining him, blood dripped through every crack in its armor, but it didn't stop. Slowly, painfully, the vines no longer restrained the mad dog's arm. It grasped the vines in its armored hands, the plants turning black from its touch; they became the servant's new Noble Phantasm. At the same time, Giorno felt his control over the plants vanish; the Berserker's ability could steal his life from him so easily, Heroic Spirits were nothing to underestimate it seemed. Berserker lashed out with the vines like whips, aiming for Giorno. A flash of red cut through the air in front of him, and the whip vine fell to pieces before his eyes.

"You may be my enemy, but right now he's more of a threat to my master if left unchecked!" Lancer stood between Giorno and the Berserker, his twin spears crossed. The fight was quickly escalating into an all out brawl, certainly not what Giorno had expected. Lancer's smirking expression was short lived however, as his body froze completely right when he went to attack the black knight.

"What are you doing, Lancer?!" His master's voice cried out from the darkness once more. "This is a perfect chance, aid Berserker and take out that insolent Blonde brat!" But Lancer refused to move, a strained look on his face. To go against his master is the biggest sin of a knight, but he couldn't agree with him here, he wouldn't help this rampaging monster! "Have it your way, Lancer. By order of the Command Seal, join Berserker in this fight and kill Archer."

A flash of light from the distance signaled the activation, and Lancer unnaturally twisted around where he stood and thrust his spear towards Giorno. Giorno smoothly jumped back and avoided the deadly spears; he definitely didn't want to find out what effect Lancer's Noble Phantasm held against his Stand, not yet at least. The situation was getting rather dire, if Tokiomi was watching this fight he would be extremely unhappy with him, how annoying.

Despite being a raging madman, something within Berserker recognized that Lancer had joined his side, as it made no moves to attack the spearman as it advanced on Giorno and Rider. He raised his hands and readied to strike back at whichever servant chose to come out him first, when Rider stepped up next to him. Rider looked at him and nodded, then raised his sword towards Lancer. Rider ran in and skillfully parried all of Lancer's strikes; he quickly forced him away from Giorno, who had resumed his original fight.

Giorno danced around the mindless Servant, using everything in his power to defeat it. He ran in, dodging through the remaining vine whips as he approached. It was nothing to him, his agility was far higher than Berserker, and now that he was serious the fight was all but over. He created a tree beneath his foot and used it to propel himself forward into a massive leap, his other leg launched into a spinning kick aimed at the knight's head. Berserker's upper body twisted around and swung the vine whips in its hand into Giorno, stopping his flying kick prematurely. But this was fine; Giorno rapidly adjusted his plan and took hold of the ends of the whips. As soon as he landed back on the ground, Giorno pulled the whips with all his strength. Berserker being the kind of Servant it I had no regard for its own footwork, making the next action easy even for a weaker servant like Giorno; he yanked the knight off its feet with a swift movement.

"Muda da!" As soon as Berserker tried to stand back up, Giorno's gold clad fist smashed into its faceless helmet, sending the Servant back to the ground with one blow. He struck out with a rapid flurry of blows against the still prone Berserker, ending with a final punch that smashed the Servant's head hard into the concrete below. Even a mad dog wouldn't get up after that, surely rage can only let you ignore so much damage. He had underestimated his opponent, a mistake he seemed to be repeating today, he still didn't know enough about this world to accurately plan for its challenges.

Giorno was wrong yet again, as Berserker proved even more tenacious than he anticipated. Two metal hands clasped around his throat before he hand time to react, damn it all, this guy was strong! Giorno didn't have the strength needed to break the vice grip around his neck, nor was there anything he could transform with gold experience within his grasp. The mad servant roared as it lifted him off the ground and tightened its hold on the golden haired boy's neck. Of all the things to be carried over into his new body, one of the universal weaknesses of Stand powers had to be one of them. He couldn't breathe, and with that his stand power began to fade, he probably couldn't even use his Requiem in this state now.

His vision had started to blur, was he really going to fall here, like this? He tried to kick the Berserker, but he legs no longer held any strength. He had failed, this Berserker is just too ridiculous, how could anybody hope to kill this thing? But his salvation came unexpectedly, and from someone not even involved in this fight. He heard it, inside of his head as if he was right next to him, the voice of his Master. Tokiomi's voice filled his mind with a single thought, and he hadn't even have to figure out the meaning of it, he knew instinctively.

"Return to my side this instant" and in a flash of blue light, Giorno Giovanna disappeared from the battlefield, for the magic of the command seal was able to create minor miracles. With an absolute order even actions that should be physically impossible, like teleportation, became realities. Giorno found himself back in Tokiomi's study, but before he could truly get his bearings after the shift in location, he collapsed.

* * *

Kirei Kotomine's role in his master's plan was to run surveillance from the safety of the church, feigning a defeated participant who took asylum with the overseer. This was, in his opinion, a criminal misuse of his and his Servant's skills. Kirei could, if required, take out the other teams on his own, using his training as a church executor to assassinate the other masters. Likewise, his Servant's golems were far more suited to be fielded as an army rather than a spy network, but Tokiomi was deadlocked on his own plan.

The fatal flaw of the traditional magus, were that they're far too set in their ways and unable to see a different course of action. Too determined to win the war through standards means he wouldn't even consider using underhanded tactics, aside from his secret alliance that is, what a joke. Kotomine picked up a bottle of wine from his personal collection in his room at the church and walked over to a nearby chair; he uncorked the bottle and poured a glass before sitting down next to a strange device that looked like a phonograph.

He would never understand why that magus insisted on using this archaic means of communication, a phone would be far more convenient for relaying information, and only one of the known master's would likely know how to tap a phone line. On that thought, he picked up a folder on the table before him and flipped it open, various scraps of information were revealed to him once more as he dove into the mystery. Why was he so fixated on this Master, this Kiritsugu Emiya? Was it because they seemed similar, or was it something else? He couldn't answer that question, so he continued to search for the answer in this collection of intel, hoping to unravel his own thought process.

A humanoid golem created by his Servant, Caster, sprung to life from its seated position in the couch across from his chair. It resembled a man only in the most basic of ways, the rest was obvious machinery. Its artificial body made strange noises as it moved and approached him, a pad of paper in one hand and a rapidly moving pen in the other, as this golem lacked the ability to speak. It handed him the note and froze in the spot, waiting more instruction from its controller, Caster.

Kirei looked over the note and nearly sighed as he imagined the conversation he has to have with his foolish master. He took a sip of his wine and placed it down on the table, he didn't really have any feelings for alcohol, but he continued to drink it for reasons unknown even to him. He turned and activated the magical device next to him, then awaited his master's answer.

"Kirei, what is it? I said to only report urgent information, if you recall?" The voice of his master from the magical phonograph sounded extremely annoyed already, and possibly slightly intoxicated. Only the fight day of the war and already this frustrated? His master had more to worry about then the enemy at this rate.

"Of course, Tokiomi, I have a report from the battlefield." He didn't show any emotion in his voice, much like a certain golden haired servant he had been observing behind his master's back. He had taken an interest in that Servant, why he had he couldn't say

"It seems Archer has engaged Berserker, and isn't doing well from the looks of it."

"That damn… I told him not involve himself in a fight he couldn't win!" The sound of a glass shattering echoed through the magical communication device, adding extra impact to Tokiomi's strained voice. "Why did I have to summon the class with the highest potential for independent action?"

The golem before Kirei began to write again, quickly scrawling out another note that it handed to him without pause. Things went from bad to worse it seemed, Kirei mentally sighed and turned back to the phonograph.

"Master, it seems that Archer is about to… well, die."

"What? That foolish Servant, why did I have to summon Archer of all the classes?" He could hear the annoyance in his master's voice from here, even if Tokiomi was trying to mask it. "Fine, I'll just deal with it myself."

With his last word the device stopped transmitting sound, and Kirei fell back into his chair, he picked up his glass of wine and took another sip of the red liquid. Dealing with Tokiomi was becoming increasingly more tiring, though he did wonder what he meant when he said he'd deal with it himself; he'd find out soon enough however.

* * *

Tokiomi had woken up with a splitting headache; perhaps he had overdone it the night before. He awoke up hunched over his desk, an empty bottle of brandy laying on it's side next to a half full cup, one day into the war and he had already been reduced to an alcoholic. That damn Archer, what was he doing to him? He groaned and stood up, his body hurt, his head hurt, he felt like he had been the one in a fight with servants the night before and in a way, he was. He glanced down at his hand, he sighed when he saw his command seal, one of the three red markings missing from the back of his hand.

"Archer, show yourself, now!" Tokiomi was impatient, and barked his order to the air around him, he winced at his own volume and pinched his forehead, he should really lay off the drinking if he wants to survive this war. "As your Master, I demand an audience!"

The odd Servant materialized in his signature pose, his hair flowing unnaturally in a non existent wind. Once fully formed, Giorno slowly walked over to his master and took a seat on a nearby chair; he crossed his legs and linked his fingers together in front of his face. His posture was very evidently dominate, despite his seated position placing him lower than his Master, was he trying to intimidate him?

"What do you need, master?" though his voice was the same as always, Tokiomi could only imagine the sarcasm and disrespect behind his words; was he being mocked? He was almost ready to use a second command seal to make his servant obey him better, but he held off for now.

"Archer, I remember explicitly telling you not to get involved in a fight you couldn't win, and yet here we are. And I was forced to use a command seal to save you from your foolish mistakes, no less!" He started to reach for a bottle on his desk but stayed his hand, doing that would only make things worse. "Your powers are impressive, but it doesn't mean you can underestimate other Servants, especially those with unknown abilities!"

"I'll admit, it wasn't my finest hour." His expression unchanged, he continued to stare at Tokiomi as he spoke, and his eyes seemed to pierce right through him. "Your rescue was quite well timed I must say, the power of those 'command seals' aren't something to be taken lightly for sure."

Tokiomi slumped back into his chair and sighed loudly, if only he had summoned an easier servant to work with, like Saber… But there was no point dwelling on what could have been, he'd just have to work harder to turn this situation around. He turned back to his Servant, a serious expression spread across his face, time to stop playing around.

"Archer, tell me the details of your fight, what have you learned about the other servants?"

"Berserker is a serious threat, he seems somewhat resistant to my abilities, and he can steal control of the 'life' I create." Giorno crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "now that I have a better grasp on his powers, I should be able to handle it better next time, though I'm not sure I could guarantee a win without having to use my 'Requiem'. He might be an opponent better left for the others to deal with, Lancer perhaps."

"And why would Lancer be a better fit against Berserker?" He wouldn't admit it, but that got him somewhat intrigued. If Berserker could push his own servant back that much, what hope could a lesser servant like Lancer have against them?

"Lancer possesses a Noble Phantasm that can cut through mana, it was easily able to break through Berserker's own power. I'm not about to test it's effectiveness against my own ability any time soon, either."

That did certainly sound like a strong Noble Phantasm, if this overconfident Servant of his was weary it was worth taking note of, looks like this war wasn't going to be as easy as he hoped. But if he followed his Servant's advice and allowed the others to defeat each other, things might go smoother.

"The only other Servant whose powers I was able to gain an understanding of was Assassin" Giorno stood up as he spoke and turned away from his master. "I wasn't expecting Assassin to be so… strangely dressed."

"Assassin? Kirei didn't say anything about Assassin, when did this happen?" was that apprentice of his playing some kind of game, purposely leaving out vital information? "Please, tell me about Assassin if you would."

"I'm sure Kotomine didn't inform you as it happened a ways away from the main battle, and was over almost in an instant. They managed to escape, but I won't lose a second time, their strength is no match for mine." He turned to face his master again and posed both hands on his hips and his upper body twisted to the side. "As for their appearance, Assassin was female, young, and… quite underdressed."

"Hmm, a Female Assassin you say? Up to this point every Servant Assassin has been Hassan-i-Sabbah, said to be the only heroic spirit fit to be summoned as that class, though it is a shared name of many individuals I doubt there were many, how unlikely..."

"You said that the golem I destroyed was based off the shared look of the Hassen tribe, yes?" Giorno interrupted his master quite bluntly, but he carried on like nothing had happened. "Well, this Assassin did not wear a mask at all, or a black cloak like that fake you prepared."

"An Assassin who is not a Hashashin? That should be impossible." This was certainly unexpected; an assassin who was not one of the nineteen leaders of the original clan of assassins was unheard of, a complete wildcard. Before things are complicated any more he should eliminate them before they get a chance to become a nuisance; when this conversation ended he would set Kirei on the task of locating them. "But if you say you can defeat them easily, I'll believe you, when I know their whereabouts we'll launch an attack, remain here on standby until then."

Giorno nodded and swiftly exited the room, turning into spirit form when he reached the hallway. He had to make up for has failures in the last fight, losing again wasn't an option, he would erase anyone in the way of his dream no matter what.


	4. Chapter 3: Child-Killers

Jack the Ripper was one of his most admired serial killers of all time, well, maybe not his _favorite_, but an easy choice for a top ten list! If he had any complaints about the artwork that he had put out, it was that it lacked originality. And why only take one body part from each victim? What a waste! He however admired the skill of the killer, and the lasting fear he had instilled was exactly the kind of thing he was looking to do!

Anyone can become a murderer; anyone can become a serial killer even. But to become a legend, a monster feared worldwide who was never caught or even identified, now _that_ was impressive. Oh, what he wouldn't give to sit down with him and discuss common hobbies, like the murder of young women, for example! It was thoughts like these that filled his mind as he drew the summoning circle on the floor below him in his latest victim's blood. He hadn't expected to summon Jack the Ripper of course, or even for it to work at all, he just wanted to see what would happen.

"Uhh, make the circle, repeat four times… Shit! I screwed up already!" the book in his hands was old and yellowed, the pages looked as though they would crumble if you touched them too roughly. Having no knowledge of the Holy Grail War or of Magic, he had misread the book and assumed it was for summoning demons or evil spirits, and decided to test it out.

He had no training in magic and made countless mistakes, but the Grail awarded his persistence, it needed a Seventh Master. The circle of blood changed, a strange light shined forth from it, blinding him momentarily. The room shook violently under the pressure of an unnatural wind; it took everything he had just to stay standing against it. Then everything stopped and he opened his eyes, blinking a few times to make sure he was seeing correctly. Inside the circle was a girl, a very young and cute girl. Damn she was really his type, his type of victim that is.

"We answer the summons from the Grail as the Servant Assassin, are you our Master, big brother?" He had no idea what was going on, but the way this girl called him big brother sent a shiver down his spine, was it fear or excitement? If he wasn't careful he might just cut her to pieces right here, damn he'd misplaced his knife. The girl looked at him with her huge innocent eyes; this couldn't possibly be a demon, right?

"Uhh, I don't really know what you're saying, but I summoned you, I guess…" he rubbed the back of his neck and tried awkwardly to smile, he wasn't really sure what to do here. "So uh, are you… a Demon?"

The girl giggled at his question, had it been a normal child it might have even sounded cute, but the innocent smile on her face and the sound she was making both seemed off somehow. He started laughing before he realized it, getting caught up in hers.

"People certainly called us that when we were alive, or called us a monster, but there was one name they called us more than the others…"

"Oh, what was it?" He still didn't really understand, but he had definitely summoned _something_ with that ritual, and he wanted to know what.

"_Jack the Ripper," _The girl bounced around the room like a normal child might, casually mentioning she was a legendary serial killer. He must be dreaming, this couldn't be real, right? He quickly decided that must be the case, and since it was a dream he might as well have as much fun as possible.

"Jack the Ripper huh, you're not really what I expected, but I'm a big fan of your work!" Even though it was a dream, he couldn't help but say the things he would have if it was real. "Name's Ryuunosuke Uryuu, My hobby is murder in general, though right now I'm back to sharpening up my basics, I want to become a famous serial killer like you one day!"

The girl stopped her skipping and looked behind him, her eyes rested on something on the floor. He turned around and saw the body of a young woman, her clothes stained with her own blood.

"So, you also kill 'mothers', master?" she tilted her head as she asked, and he felt like the answer to this question was somehow critical to his own survival. Wait, wasn't this a dream?

"Uh, yeah… Mothers, teenagers, kids, anyone who's an easy target really," What kind of question was that, she couldn't know this woman was a mother just by looking at her, could she? Whatever the reason for the question, it at least seemed like she was on the same page as him when it came to murder.

"Shall we go 'play' together then, big brother?" her playful childlike voice sent an unsettling chill through him once more, and he was slowly starting to think this wasn't a dream, who got chills in a dream? But her words intrigued him, was 'playing' what he thought it was? After all, she did claim to be Jack the Ripper.

What was this feeling inside of him, was it fear? Or was it excitement? So many emotions swirled within him, and he could hardly contain them. This surreal scene that was unfolding around him was exactly what he wanted, even if this young girl wasn't a demon, a legendary serial killer was just as good. When had he started to believe this was real? Just a few moments ago he had been convinced it was a dream, what had changed? Maybe he just wanted it to be real.

Ryuunosuke was ecstatic, the thought of what the future held for him now made him more and more excited. He couldn't hold back anymore, it was just too much, without warning he laughed. A twisted, sadistic laugh that carried almost no remaining humanity filled the room, and he didn't stop. He laughed so long his sides started to hurt from lack of oxygen, forcing him to finally cease.

"Yes, yes! I'd love to play with you, let's start right away! Uhh, want to start with this kid?" He turned and pointed to a body lying on the ground behind him, partially obscured by a nearby couch. The body was of a young boy, bound and gagged in a haphazard way that revealed Ryuunosuke's amateurish ways. Upon closer inspection, it was obvious the boy was still alive, his eyes frozen open with fear. "I wouldn't be a good host if I didn't provide entertainment, right?"

The girl's playful attitude suddenly changed, every movement became serious and calculated, like a wild animal on a hunt. She surveyed the room, her eyes darting wildly from corner to corner, picking up every detail. Finally, she approached the child bound on the floor and knelt down. The boy's terrified expression grew more intense as she leaned into his face, his eyes dashed back and forth from looking at her, to the still standing Ryuunosuke, and to a point behind her. Was it just fear that made him look at anything, or was there something over there. Oh, there was a door, nothing but a hopeless desire to escape.

The girl's hand closed around one of the strangely shaped knives hanging from her belt, and in one swift motion she removed it from its sheath and slashed the boy. Ryuunosuke was stunned at her speed, but even more so at the results. She'd cut the boy's bindings, completely missing his body, was this a joke? She lifted the boy to his feet, she the ropes that were tied around him and tossed them aside, he was completely freed in seconds.

"It's all right now; go back to the safety of your mother's warmth." She spoke softly, her voice reassuring and calm, nothing like it had been before. A scowl crossed Ryuunosuke's face as the scene unfolded, was this really the legendary original serial killer?

The boy looked around nervously, not sure what to do. After a few moments of his two captors not doing anything, he must have decided it was safe to move, and ran over to the door. Ryuunosuke thought he meant to escape but after looking at it closer, that door didn't even lead outside, it was the door to a hall closet. Ryuunosuke laughed to himself, the only thing he could think was that this kid was really dumb enough to think that was a door outside.

"Mother!" sobbing, the boy flung open the closet door and fell into the arms of a terrified looking woman who was kneeling inside. Wait, what the hell was going on? Ryuunosuke looked to the corpse of the woman behind him, wasn't this that kid's mom? His eye started to twitch as he looked back and forth between them; the body on the floor had black hair, while the two currently living potential victims had brown hair. He wanted to slap himself for not realizing his mistake sooner, for a minute he wondered who this other woman was but soon decided he didn't care.

The living woman and most likely the boy's real mother looked past him towards Ryuunosuke and the Servant, her face frozen in a look of utter terror. A single tear rolled down her cheek as she realize her son had given away her hiding spot, she had managed to stay perfectly quiet this whole time, he hadn't even noticed her. Ryuunosuke caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, the girl who claimed to be Jack the Ripple was trembling and now held a knife in both of her hands.

"I'm so sorry, Mother!" tears welled up in her eyes and in an instant, she had vanished from sight. He had to blink a few times to realize she had disappeared; he quickly looked back to the closet scene, his instincts telling him to pay attention there. Sure enough, the girl who disappeared was there, having somehow ended up behind the kneeling woman. "P-please… forgive me!"

Silver knives sliced through the air, cutting a shining arc across the woman's neck. Crimson blood sprayed like a fountain as her head was cleanly severed from her body, drenching the boy in the warm red liquid. The boy opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out, he was completely paralyzed with fear. His body still shaking, Assassin's knives cut through the body of the still knelt body, and with a hard tug she removed something from the body before it fell over on top of the boy.

Still beating, a human heart covered the petite white body of Jack the ripper with crimson; unfazed by this she pressed the heart against her face. She rubbed the organ against her body, the entire time she continued to sop and repeatedly apologized to nobody in particular. She dropped the heart after a few moments and moved to where the boy lay, still frozen in horror. She drew her knife once more as she fell to her knees next to him.

"Isn't it wonderful? You can finally return to your mother's warmth, just like I promised." With a pure, innocent smile on her face, she plunged her knife into the boy's chest. He didn't cry, or scream, it was possible he had died already from the sheer shock of the situation, it was hard to tell.

Ryuunosuke wasn't sure what he had just witnessed, but he knew one thing, he was excited. A passion in his heart that had been dying down as of late was reignited at this moment; every aspect of his being was aligned perfectly. This was his true calling, his destiny had led him to this moment, it had to have.

"Amazing… that was amazing!" his heart was beating faster by the minute; this wouldn't be enough to satisfy him, he needed _more._ "You're cool, you're SO COOOOL! That was the most hardcore thing I've ever seen, so that's what it means to be a true serial killer huh?"

He rushed over to the small, bloody girl and wrapped his arms around her. He wasn't sure why he had done it, he didn't care much for physical interactions, but something inside of him just wanted to do it. He had a strange feeling fill him, like a proud father watching their child win an award; at least this is what he thought that might feel like.

"Jack the Ripper… Jacqueline the Ripper?" He separated from her and placed his hand on her head, she stared at him, but then she closed her eyes and smiled. "Wanna go have some more fun?"

She nodded, and with that confirmation he started to leave the scene of the crime, his passion for murder fully reinvigorated, what new ways to kill could this girl show him he wondered, they were all surely to be spectacular.

* * *

Ryuunosuke had taken a bit of a backseat to the murders they committed, not for any real reason, just that he'd rather watch her kills than his own at this point. He couldn't even hope to compete with her skills, let alone the things she did that were impossible for a human. The deaths she created were exquisite, a quality he could probably never hope to come close to even if he remained uncaught his entire life, but it didn't mean he would stop trying!

They had broken into an apartment; the only occupant was a young woman, a trivial kill if there ever was one. Their killing spree now carried two meanings, however. Ryuunosuke was no magus, barely even able to complete the summoning ritual on his own, so he lacked any proper ability as a Master. A servant is formed from the mana of its Master, without a steady supply of that magical energy they would quickly cease to exist. Jack was no exception to this, and lacking a connection with her master, who couldn't even provide her with it in more direct ways, would soon fade out without another source. The woman lay dead on the floor; a pool of blood flowed beneath her killer's feet as they walked over and knelt down besides them.

"You sure this will work? I really wish I could be more help, but I can barely follow what's happening." He looked to his servant, who placed her small pale hand on the woman's still warm body, a white glow slowly started to envelop it. Ryuunosuke wasn't sure of the details, but she had told him that a spiritual being could take the required mana from a similar existence, that similar existence would be what many would call the human soul. In essence, devouring the 'soul' allowed for a servant with no master to continue to exist or for a weak servant to become stronger.

The Servant removed her hand from the body, a swirling mass of white energy writhed in her grip, without hesitation she opened her mouth and swallowed the spirit in her hand. The mana of the human soul instantly filled her body with radiant warmth, she felt her body grow stronger, her connection to the world also seemed to be strengthened.

"It works, Master." she looked up to him, her body still covered in the blood created by the kill. Such an innocent smile on a girl soaked in crimson with a knife in her hand was unsettling, in a good way. 'B-but… I'm still hungry…"

A smirk spread across his face at her words, knowing exactly what she meant. His life was so much more interesting than it had been just a day prior, could he be any luckier?

He opened the locked door behind him and headed out into the hallway, her servant soon followed, though she returned to spirit form he could somehow feel she was there.

"Well, we'll just have to go do a bit more 'shopping' then, won't we?" He stretched out his arms above and behind his head, a slight yawn escaping his lips; even serial killers need to sleep sometimes. "Just one more, then we'll go home for the night, ok?"

Two monsters stalked the streets, their actions the stuff of nightmares. Neither one at the time considered the consequences of their reckless movements, they lived their lives as if they had nothing to worry about, the Holy Grail a mere afterthought. Ryuunosuke didn't understand this 'war' he had been dragged into, but he didn't really care about it anyways, so he didn't think about it too deeply. For now, watching his cool Servant commit murder was the only thing on his mind, if he thought of a wish he wanted maybe he'd get more serious…

Well, it wasn't something he was going to worry about too much, right now he just wanted to lie down and take a nap, but their business wasn't quite done yet. Now, where would there be a good target at this hour?

* * *

To be a magus was to accept death and continue to walk forward down that path in life, but that doesn't mean a magus should take unnecessary risks. This rule applied even more so to the young magi in training than it did the full fledged magic users of the Holy Grail War, so a certain apprentice magi's current actions were quite out of line. She was neither stupid nor blind, she knew what was going on in her city, and she didn't like it.

Rin Tohsaka, daughter of the Master of Archer, Tokiomi, was disobeying her father quite severely right now. He had told her to stay safe and not involve herself in anything that happened before he returned, and she had been content to follow those orders, until something changed. Children were disappearing off the streets, enough to become a noticeable phenomenon, and Rin had every reason to suspect that one of her classmates had become a victim as well.

Her room in the house they were hiding at during the duration of the war was on the second floor, but that obstacle proved insignificant against her. She made her escape in the dead of night, her bed sheets becoming a makeshift rope to allow her to descend without alerting her mother. Of course, she had no way of knowing her target was involved in the same conflict her father was a participant in at the time, but she still came prepared.

In her coat pocket were as many of her magical supplies as she could carry, unfortunately that didn't amount to much. Two gemstones she had stored him mana in with her family's jewelcraft, and an enchanted compass that pointed towards strong magical signals, a gift for her father. The gems would serve as her main defense, if she released all the energy stored inside she should be able to create a powerful magical explosion… probably.

She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she was scared, sneaking around at night looking for the dangerous person or persons who were kidnapping children wasn't something a child should be doing. But she was no normal child, she was the heir to the Tohsaka bloodline of magi, an ordinary kidnapper had no chance against her!

Since she had been staying outside of the main part of Fuyuki city during the war, she first had to return to the city proper, thankfully the train ran throughout the night and the graveyard shift employees were too out of it to notice a small child taking a train by herself. She finally arrived in the city but suddenly hit another roadblock, how was she going to find the kidnappers? Her poorly thought out plan led to a situation where she was wandering aimlessly, hoping to see anything that resembled a clue.

It was looking hopeless, after an hour of searching she was completely empty-handed. She crossed her arms and puffed up her cheeks in annoyance, detective work shouldn't be this hard; she was a magus after all! A task as mundane as this should be mere child's play for her, but she was struggling. Her trip had started to look like wasted time, so she turned to head back, when it happened. A short lived scream in the distance, and had it not been the dead of night she surely wouldn't have even heard it.

Her legs moved on their own, before she even had a chance to think about her actions she was running towards the sound. Even though it was unlikely, she pulled out the magic detecting compass from her coat pocket just to be safe, her other hand closed around one of her mana infused gemstones. Her small legs carried her as quickly as she could go, which wasn't very fast all things considered, if only she knew how to reinforce her own body with magic…

She rounded a corner and abruptly stopped; in the middle of the road was a car, three figures stood nearby. The hood of the car was crushed, but there was nothing around to have caused the impact, and everybody looked unharmed. The smallest of the figures moved towards a woman standing by the car, and even she could tell what had happened from where she was. Killed, that woman was killed by the small figure; she fell to the ground in an instant.

Rin, now the only living witness of the killing spree of "Fuyuki's Ripper" as the newspapers had been calling them, was frozen in fear. She didn't want to believe what she had just seen, but it was undeniable, it took everything she had not to scream out loud. Her legs finally unlocked and she was able to move, she dashed back the way she came, or at least she tried to. In front of her was the small figure, the murderer, who should now be behind her. How, how had she gotten there so fast? The compass in Rin's hand spun of control, getting faster and faster until it completely shattered.

"Ah!" The minor explosion caused by the compass knocked her off her feet, and she was far too in shock to move. Her arms were shaking too badly to even use her gems, it was hopeless. She understood what was in front of her, it wasn't human despite its looks, it was a monster. She couldn't fight a monster, she doubted even her father could do that.

A Knife was raised at her, still dripping blood from the last victim, but Rin didn't scream. It wouldn't do any good against them if somebody came to help now, she might as well accept her fate, like a true magus. The silver knife sliced through the air faster than her eyes could follow, but it never connected with her. She didn't know what happened, but the girl with the knife was now gone from her view, replaced with a strange man in a purple suit.

The knife wielding girl returned to his version, but her target was this new arrival, she slashed at him while lunging through the air. The man spun in place and landed a hard kick on the girl, sending her sailing through the air. Clearly no match for him, the girl fled the scene, vanishing into the darkness.

Rin stared at him, even in the shadows his golden hair shone brightly against his surroundings. His pose was relaxed, but you could tell he wasn't off guard; his was just so skilled he didn't need a stance. His surreal appearance and his perfect timing, they were inhuman. Yes, this man wasn't human… he was a Hero! Just like the shows on tv that her school friends were always talking about, this man was surely one of them, a Hero of Justice!

He bent down next to her and extended his hand, she couldn't tell what he was thinking, his face was perfectly composed and his expression unchanging, like a statue. But still she took his hand, allowing him to lift her to her feet. When she thought she was going to die her heart was of course racing and it was still racing now, but something about it felt... different than before.

"Kids shouldn't be out this late by themselves." His words were blunt, but had a subtle kindness. He leaned in closer to her, their faces now level, and quite close. Rin's face turned red with embarrassment and she turned away from him, puffing out her cheeks in defiance. It was one thing to be scolded by her parents, but she wouldn't accept it from a stranger, never!

"My age doesn't matter, I had it under control!" This man reminded her of her father's assistant, the similarities to that priest were superficial at best, but for a moment she reacted as if he was the same person. Realizing this only made her face get redder, which in turn only made her act more defiant. "Who asked for your help anyways? You can go now, I'm fine on my own!"

With a final "humph!" she turned and walked away from him, acting like a complete brat. What was she doing? This wasn't how she wanted to act, why can't she just be normal? Everything she said to him came out angry, when she was actually quite grateful to him for saving her, was there something wrong with her?

Seemingly unbothered by her attitude, the man followed her without hesitation, though at a distance that made him seem disconnected from her. Every few minutes she looked over her shoulder to find out that yes, he was still following her. His hands were in his pockets casually, like he was taking a relaxing stroll in the park.

"I don't need a babysitter, so you don't need to follow me!" She was growing increasingly annoyed with this guy, would he just go away already? But he continued to follow her, not saying a single word. She was about to snap and use her magic to try and distract him and then run away, when she stopped. Out of an alley nearby emerged a figure, a man with white hair limped towards them. She thought she almost recognized the man, but she definitely didn't know anybody that ugly, he looked half dead.

"Get away… from her!" the man growled, his face contorting with rage. His one working eye bulged almost out of his head and he gritted his teeth. Rin didn't know why, but she couldn't stop shaking when she looked at him. There was something even more terrifying about him than the person who attacked her, but she couldn't tell what it was. A black shadow moved behind the man, its form clouded in a dark miasma, something that couldn't exist in this world.

The man grabbed his left arm and fell to his knees, he grimaced in agony as his body convulsed violently. But the shadow didn't move, it remained perfectly still behind its master, if you could see its eyes they would probably have been locked on the sight of the man behind her. Just what had she stumbled into, this wasn't what her father was involved in, was it?

"You should probably get back, girl." Pushing past her, the golden hero strode into the scene, completely unbothered by the creature before him. A hero wouldn't be affected by something like that, she supposed.

She wanted to speak up and berate him for calling her 'girl', but her voice caught in her throat. Before she realized it her legs were running, she ran and ran and when she finally stopped it was only because her small body could no longer stand. She fell to the dirt in a small park she would go to often with her mother, but at night it was eerie and alien to her, providing no sense of safety and comfort. She pulled herself off the ground and crawled onto a nearby bench, her fatigue quickly caught up to her as she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

When Rin awoke the next day, she was back in her room; there was no sign of her night activities she could see, had it just been a dream? She slid out of her bed and stumbled half asleep to the box she kept her magus tools in, and tentatively peaked inside. Her heart skipped a beat when she opened it and found that her compass, a magic detecting device that was a gift from her father, was gone.

"That's right; I dropped it back there…" Everything that had happened, that she had scene, was all real. She wasn't sure what to think about that, should she be terrified it wasn't a dream? Or should she be glad it wasn't? Her thoughts drifted back to the man who saved her, he definitely couldn't be human if he could stand up to monsters like those. But somehow, she felt like he was different from the rest, but there wasn't really any good reason for her to think that. Still mentally exhausted from the night before, Rin Tohsaka returned to bed, falling asleep again without ever learning how she made it back home.

* * *

Giorno awoke from a dream, the only dream he could have as of becoming a heroic spirit. Dreams of his past, his memories of his life, vague and clouded at first, they became more vivid every night it seemed. He felt sick; he had witnessed something he never wanted to see again, that wretched childhood of his before he found his way. Hopefully, the next dream he had would be of a more pleasant time, but those were so few and far between in his life.

He passed his master's study without pause, it was too early for Tokiomi to be awake, and even if he was, he didn't want to see him right now. He found himself in the main entranceway, a newspaper hanging half in the front door mail slot. Giorno shook his head, during a battle to the death you didn't think to halt your paper delivery? What an oddly careless move on his master's part. His had half a mind to ignore it, but an image on the front page caught his eye as he turned to leave.

He strode over to the paper and pulled it out of the slot, taking a closer look at the headline. 'Miraculous hotel collapse claims no casualties." In what world is a hotel collapsing "miraculous"? What a joke, Giorno would have thrown it away right there if it wasn't for the next line.

"The fire alarm went off with perfect timing to get everyone out of the building before it fell…"

It was too perfect, this had to be the work of an enemy, a battle had taken place there, but what master would be reckless enough to collapse a building on his enemy? Berserker's? No, it was too planned out for that, too roundabout a tactic for that Rider as well. Assassin could have done it, but he didn't feel like it was her style, and her master was seemingly uninterested in the grail.

Giorno could only think of one person who could be behind it, a cowardly Master who would stoop to this kind of tactic, but would Lancer's master have the decency to evacuate the building first?

He needed more information, and so he utilized his classes' most important feature, Independent Action, to begin an investigation on his own. He didn't bother to take spiritual form; he didn't enjoy the sensation of not having a body, so he'd like to avoid using that if at all possible. Thankfully, humanity has developed quite an ability to ignore strange things around them, as long as he acted completely normal, his appearance didn't bother anyone. People are too preoccupied with their own lives, so even a blonde man in a bright purple suit was able to move freely through the city so long as he didn't directly interfere with people's daily routines.

The wreckage of the former hotel was quite a sight, the building had been thoroughly demolished, and he had doubts about whether he could even find any clues in this mess. He walked through the rubble, trying to find something, _anything_ that could lead him to knowing what happened here. He had to find Lancer's master; he couldn't stand to let that arrogance in human form walk around any longer than necessary.

He could feel residual magical energy in the air, confirming his suspicions that this was connected to the war he was in. It was faint, but the mana from a spell still lingered in around him, though it didn't feel like the energy of a servant. But that was about the end of his investigation of the collapsed hotel, not much remained of use that he was able to find out. But he refused to give up; he'd just have to extend his search radius.

He knelt down in the rubble and brushed his hands across several small chucks of wood, the debris transforming into birds with a golden light. Magi often used birds as familiars, for scouting and spying purposes, this was no different. His birds took to the air on his command, spreading out from his location in a spiraling pattern to search the surrounding area. He didn't truly expect to find anything like this, but he had to try something.

Something that shouldn't have been there caught the eye of one of his scouting birds, the information relayed to him through their connection. An unexpected item belonging to someone he hadn't thought to be involved in this, but the proximity seemed to imply otherwise. He left the rubble of the hotel and quickly made his way to his new destination, an abandoned unfinished skyscraper nearby. A part of him had hoped he hadn't seen what he had, but reality wasn't so kind.

"What were you doing here I wonder… Kotomine?" At his feet was a golem, a golem in the style of those made by the priest's Servant. That priest shouldn't have been involved in the war, and yet here he was, looking at the body of a destroyed golem that wasn't even disguised as assassin, Tokiomi wasn't going to be happy to hear about this. He lowered himself to the ground beside the golem and examined it, the reason it appeared to be broken was readily apparent. The golem was practiced shredded to pieces by the numerous 'wounds' on its body, wait, were those bullet holes?

What a perplexing turn of events, who was Kotomine and his golems fighting here? So close to another battle from the war and with conventional weapons as well. From what he understood of magi in the short time he had been in this world, they weren't the type to use modern technologies they considered barbaric, such as firearms. The mysteries just seemed to pile one on top of the other as he considered the possibilities.

The only thing he knew was that there were no other bodies, this golem was destroyed but its opponent was not. Kotomine could have disposed of the body, but to do so and leave his golem here would be a misstep that priest wouldn't likely make. No, it was far more likely the unknown gunman 'killed' the golem and then Kotomine presumed them, finding himself in a position where he couldn't easily return to dispose of the golem's remains. It was also a safe assumption that whoever he had engaged had survived, and now the truth of Caster's golems was known to at least one master.

"Better keep it that way." With a flash of gold, he once again used his powers, turning the golem's body into the form of a mangy stray dog. The dog ran off into the distance, never to be seen again. He somewhat felt like he was covering up a crime, but it didn't really matter to him, even if that priest tried something; he saw no threat from him or his Servant.

As he turned to leave the abandoned building, he felt a pair of eyes on the back of his head; his brewing suspicions were becoming clearer by the moment. Expressionless, he stood perfectly still and waited. He had felt like somebody was trying to follow him for a while now, but he hadn't expected the priest to go turncoat so early on. Without warning Giorno spun in place and threw out a straight kick directly behind him, his body that was enhanced with the power of his stand easily shattered the golem that stood behind him.

"Muda muda Kotomine, you'll have to try harder to spy on me if this is the best you've got." The golem that had followed him was of the false assassin style, its body vanishing under the disintegration spell placed on all of the ones of the same time. He couldn't imagine Tokiomi had ordered Kotomine to follow him, so it was very likely to be an independent action from his Master's 'apprentice'. He'd have to keep a closer eye on that priest from now on.

Giorno left the building, having gained more information on the standing of the war, but not the information he had come to find, his reconnaissance therefore was far from over. He wouldn't rest until he found Lancer's master, it was the only goal in his sights at the moment. He searched the city for hours, but turned up empty handed, that man was good at hiding; he'd at least give him that.

Before he had realized it, the day had turned to night and he still had no leads. He was preparing to return to his Master's mansion for the time being, when he heard a distant crush followed by a scream. Normally he wouldn't care about such a thing, but something told him to go towards it, was it his instincts, or something else?

He arrived just in time to see a young woman be brutally gutted by a small child he unfortunately recognized, and what was that right after? Did she just eat their soul? He wasn't sure how he knew that was what happened, but he did, it must be an instinctual understanding Servants possess. The soul eating Assassin's focused shifted, and Giorno's followed, both settling on a third party, a small girl.

The presumed Master of Assassin looked rather plain, a completely normal human in a battle of absurd existences. It wouldn't take more than a moment for Giorno to end his life, but he didn't even have that long. It was frustrating, but he'd have to ignore the master for now if he was going to stop that murderous servant from causing anymore harm. He was a harsh and calculated man, but he wasn't inhuman enough to stand around and watch a child get slaughtered by the spirit of a murderer.

That's right, there's no way this girl in front of him was an assassin, her form was far too chaotic for such a profession. No, she was something else; she was just a petty murderer. He moved like the wind itself, his right arm already poised to strike as he closed the gap, just a few more steps and it would be over. But he was up against a Servant, and even if his assault was too swift for a human to react to, they were far from human.

His punch sliced through empty air as his feet slid to a halt in front of the girl, Assassin had sensed his charge and retreated at the last moment, what a troublesome opponent.

His eyes scanned around, quickly locating his enemy, who seemed ready to retaliate. What a foolish Servant, did she still think she could win against him? She might have escaped last time, but only because he hadn't bothered to pursue her. When she lunged back at him she was met with a sharp kick to her left side, her body flew through the air limply before crashing into the ground in a cloud of dust.

Yet again clearly outclassed, the Servant Assassin fled from the scene for a second time against him, This enemy was proving to be quite the announce, he should probably follow her and end it… But, he had to do something about this girl behind him first.

"Kids shouldn't be out this late by themselves." He wasn't sure exactly what to say to this girl, who was obviously far too young to be out this late on her own. He really didn't want to play babysitter right now, but he couldn't ignore the possibility of Assassin coming back for her if he were to leave. For now he'd keep an eye on her. When she replied to him her words were static in his ears, he didn't listen to a thing she said for one reason; she was acting like a brat. Her tone was enough to make him disregard everything she was saying as he followed her, she looked like she was going back to the train station, which should be as far as he'd need to shadow her to keep her safe.

Out of the darkness to his right a man shambled into his vision, His appearance reminded him of the results of trying to bring the dead back to life with his Stand, something he would never do again. The man's single working eye locked onto him, and if he was a lesser man he might have become unnerved, but his stone faced resolve remained unbroken even against this man's gaze. The bloodlust emanating from him however was enough for his guard to go up before he had even said a word.

"Get away… from her!" The world behind the man distorted, and what was once empty now housed an immense shadow. Everything made sense to Giorno now, this man was a Master, and from the looks of it he had one of the most troublesome servants at his command, Berserker. Calling Berserker out of his spirit form must have been a great strain on his weak body, as he collapsed almost immediately after, but his enraged gaze remained aimed at Giorno.

"You should probably get back, girl." He pushed past the trembling girl; this was no place for her to be. He continued to run into servants today, yet couldn't find the one he was searching for, what a strange twist of fate. Oh well, now was as good a time as any to redeem his last failure against this mad dog.

Berserker roared and ran at him, closing into hand to hand range almost immediately. Giorno threw a flurry of punches at him, but the Servant wasn't even pushed back. A heavy fist clad in pitch black armor slammed hard into his gut, robbing his lungs of their air and his feet of the ground. He recovered midair just in time to see a black shadow closing in on him; this Servant shouldn't be so fast in such heavy armor! He managed to block the next blow and landed unsteadily on his feet.

"Gold Experience!" This servant could steal control of his creations from him, but there were still ways he could use his power, besides, not using his main ability as a heroic spirit against such a strong enemy would be suicide. The first thing he did was heal his own wounds, and then he turned two of his ladybug brooches into hawks. The birds flew circles around him as he turned the pavement around him into vines, the vines wrapped around his arms, legs and body.

In response to this, the Berserker took hold of a street sign in one hand, his Noble Phantasm taking hold immediately as he wrenched it free of the ground. Wielding the sign like a halberd, the black knight came for him. Giorno's hawks flew up into the sky and dove at the black servant, who ignored them and kept running. Damn, he didn't take the bait. Giorno threw up his arms above his head and intercepted a swing from the servant's makeshift polearm, his vines acted as armor against the blow.

One of the birds flew past the mad Servant, finally catching his attention. He swung his sign halberd at it, smashing it into the ground with the flat of the sign. Numerous wounds appeared on the Servant's body, blood poured from cracks in his armor, but the Servant was unfazed by this. Ignoring the damage it had sustained, berserker swung its weapon down at Giorno once more, and in a move that should be impossible for the mindless Berserker class, aimed for the gaps in his vine armor.

Giorno was stunned; he hadn't expected such a precise attack from this enemy, but this Berserker was full of surprises. The edge of the sign slashed into his side like a blade, breaking several ribs and puncturing his right lung. His stand faltered at that moment, and his creations returned to their original forms. Berserker wasted no time in taking advantage of this, and another swing sliced through him before he had a chance to recover. He blocked the attack from causing any lethal damage, at the cost of his left hand.

The mad beast roared again, and with a powerful kick sent Giorno crashing through the window of a nearby building. The pain of his combined wounds was almost enough to make him scream out, but he endured it, if he couldn't handle this much pain, how could he win the war? Mustering up as much of his remaining power as he could, he quickly repaired his lung and leapt to his feet. His hand would have to wait; he could turn this fight around easily.

He wasn't used to fighting like this, in a battle between stands he was unsurpassed, but now he had to throw his own body into the fray. A fight between two people, not two stands was something completely new to him. But he was adjusting to it quickly; soon he should be able to fight at full capacity again. He should really thank Berserker's master for giving him such a great crash course in true combat.

"Muda!" with a cry he thrust his remaining fist out, counting the charge of the Berserker with a swift strike to the chest. He used his most powerful tool against this enemy, his immense speed that should far surpass theirs, and followed his punch with a flurry of kicks, each one punctuated with another "Muda!"

The mindless Servant fell to the ground with a thud, and Giorno wasted no time before continuing his plan. He only needed to incapacitate the Berserker for a few moments; it didn't matter if his binds wouldn't hold long. Thrusting his hand into the ground he activated his Stand's ability… No, it was _his _ability. The radiant power of Gold Experience flowed forth from his arm, and from the ground sprang an incalculable number of vines. The plant's tendrils wrapped around the fallen Berserker's body and pinned it to the ground, this would have to be good enough.

Giorno walked towards the Servant's Master, still kneeling on the ground and clutching at his arm in pain. The bird that Giorno had created earlier returned to him and landed on his wounded arm, and in a flash had become a new hand, as if his old limb had never been severed. His stand's power was never meant to be used this way, so healing wounds was rather a painful task, but it would have to do.

The haggard man stood up as he approached and raised his arm towards him, was he planning on fighting a servant by himself? He seemed like he was barely able to stand, let alone fight.

"Why are you still struggling? Is it not obvious by now? This resistance is useless, you can barely stand." Why had he started to talk to him? He was his enemy. It would have only taken a few seconds to kill him and be one step closer to his dream, so why? "No wish could be worth so much as to push yourself to your death for it, surely?"

"Shut up… I don't want to hear that from Tokiomi's dog!" His body convulsed as he spoke, a wave of pain shooting through his body. The man clenched his teeth and let out a muffled cry of agony, but he managed to stay standing. "Nothing else matters now, I will save her, I _have _to save her…"

It didn't take a genius to notice that this man was near death, his body was breaking down more by the second, yet somehow he was still alive, still standing. His conviction, if anything, was quite strong, Giorno could tell by the look in his eyes that his 'resolve' was genuine. Giorno had seen eyes like that before, in a time that felt so long ago now…

"What a noble martyr for your cause, ready to throw yourself on the fire to rescue another. Is that what you want me to say?" Giorno had lived his life without ever looking back; he couldn't understand what this man was thinking; what was the point in saving someone if you died in the process? "If this person you wish to save is that important to you, then they wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself for them, would they?"

"How could you understand, you're no longer an existence that can even comprehend humanity!" The dying man clutched at his chest, his face distorting as if there were numerous insects squirming under his skin. Giorno shifted his eyes back to the trapped Servant, who still struggled against its bindings as the spoke. "I'll save her… and atone for my mistakes. After that, I don't care what happens to me, it doesn't matter!"

"You really are a fitting Master for that mad beast, aren't you?" Servants and Masters sometimes have similar personalities, although Giorno couldn't see much of a connection with his own Master, it seemed accurate for the man before him. "You're both reckless fools who can't see clearly, rushing to your deaths faster than I've ever seen."

"Tough words for somebody who's been a mere toy for my Berserker this whole time," the man laughed, though it quickly devolved into a spasm of coughing. Giorno wouldn't even need to kill him by his own hand if this kept up, he could just wait for him to expire on his own. "My Berserker… won't be beaten by the likes of you, or that scum that calls itself your master."

The man thrust out his hand and his body shuddered, a massive surge of mana shot through him, Giorno couldn't believe what he was seeing. This half dead Master… was going to challenge a servant by himself? The space around the Magus ripped apart, and from within the tears in reality swarmed an incalculable number of monstrous insects.

"Muda Muda," Giorno didn't back down against this attack, and within seconds the insects were all dead. His movements faster than the human eye could keep up with he annihilated the creatures, his fists a total blur. "Looks like you've made your choice… This discussion is over."

Giorno took a step forward, closing the gap between them in an instant. It would only take a single motion to end the man's life; he wouldn't even have to use the power of his Stand. The white haired man didn't back down, even coming so close to an existence he couldn't compare to he didn't falter. It might have been a mistake, but the sight of this made Giorno lose his will to defeat him.

Giorno passed the man without even an attempt to kill him, it would have been a trivial matter for him, but he continued to walk past him, putting his hands in his pockets. As he passed by the man, a few steps behind him, he turned back and spoke once more.

"Tell me your name, so that when I kill you next time we meet, I can properly honor your demise." He didn't say these words to intimidate or threaten the man, it was just a simple statement of his victory, and he declared his victory with complete conviction. He stopped walking for a moment and waited to see if the man would answer him, and the street had fallen deathly silent for the first time since the fight began.

Kariya… Matou," the man finally gasped through pained breathing, not even bothering to look back at Giorno. "Tell your Master… that I'll make him pay for what he's done."

Giorno left the man standing in the street, turning back into spirit form before Berserker had a chance to escape from his vines and cause him any more trouble. His original goal had failed, but he had gained far more than he'd expected, though not much of the information seemed relevant to him at the time.

On his way back to the Tohsaka estate, he mulled over all the information he had gathered. This Kariya obviously had a past connected to his Master's, but he wasn't sure how relevant that was to any of his plans. Kotomine on the other hand was showing signs that his false betrayal was all too accurate an outcome. He should probably let Tokiomi know his suspicions, but the man was so stubborn he'd likely not listen. That left the actions of Assassin and her master, hopefully Tokiomi's information network had found out where they were based by now. A rampaging servant targeting innocent civilians was already enough of a cause for him to act, but to assault a child? Assassin's actions were unforgivable, and a master that allows it to happen is equally guilty of the crime.

He entered the estate still in spirit form, passing easily through the walls and directly into Tokiomi's Study, where the Magus was drinking a glass of Tea and reading over some documents that appeared to be from Kotomine. Without warning, Giorno materialized behind him and spoke.

"Master, we need to talk." Tokiomi's body tensed at his voice, having obviously not been expecting it at that moment. He placed his tea down on a saucer and rubbed the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh.

"Archer, I thought I told you to use the door, I have no need for any extra surprises right now."

"My apologies, but I just returned from scouting the city in an attempt to locate the other master's so I thought I should report in as quickly as possible." Giorno bowed slightly, mimicking the Japanese custom in an attempt to calm down Tokiomi, who could be rather quick to agitate.

"Oh, is that what you were doing? It's good that you're taking a proactive role in the War…" Tokiomi stood up and handed him the paper he was holding. "But this is what Kirei is for, remember? Though I suppose you should tell me what you've discovered, as it could differ from that report."

Giorno walked over to a chair and fell into it with an unnatural grace, crossing his legs and folding the paper in his hands without reading it. He locked his eyes on his master, his cold stare as unchanging as always.

"I encountered Assassin once again, though regrettable, they did manage to escape again, my apologies." He stopped and waited, making sure his Master wasn't about to start an argument before he continued. "I prioritized the safety of the small child that was their target, a girl around seven or eight if I had to guess."

Tokiomi placed a hand over his face, his eyes widened in horror of his current realization. There was probably something about this information that meant more to his then to Giorno, but he didn't know what it could be. Tokiomi had a young daughter, but he had no reason to suspect that girl was his daughter, was he just concerned for her general safety?

"I had my suspicions, but it seems like they were true after all… Archer, read that note from Kirei's surveillance." Giorno quickly unfolded the paper and read the contents; it was an incredibly dryly written account of various events around Fuyuki City, not much of it seeming relevant. That is until he saw the bottom of the page, a report on 'Fuyuki's Ripper', a recent string of serial killings likened to the legends of the western murderer Jack the Ripper.

Women and children, young and old, the bodies piled up more each day, all brutally dissected with blades. The report didn't have anything that directly connected with the Holy Grail War, but Giorno realized right away, it was too much of a coincidence for this to have started at the same time as the beginning of the War.

"Master, I don't think we can afford to ignore Assassin anymore, do we have any idea where they've set up in?"

"Unfortunately no, but now that weren't sure, I'll have Kirei double… no, triple his efforts to track information related to the serial killings." Tokiomi walked over to the strange magecraft communication device he used to talk to his apprentice, and as he went to activate it Giorno stood up and began to exit the room. "As the overseer of this land, I agree with you, a Master committing serial murder isn't something I can overlook, be ready to move as soon as we know our target location."

Giorno nodded and left the study, and as he walked through the estate, the toll on his body began to become apparent. He hated to admit it, but he was tired, he'd used his powers quite a lot today, and hadn't stopped to rest once. Giorno entered the estate's main living room and fell into a large couch, and as he drifted off he made a wish that his dreams this time would be of more pleasant times than the last.

* * *

It was cold and dark, the building they were using as a base didn't have working electricity, so it was little more than a roof over their heads. It had started raining that morning and hadn't let up since, how long had it been now? She had lost track of time sitting around in this house, but she couldn't go out, she had to protect her Master. The gold haired Servant… was he after them? After their last encounter she could only assume yes, the bloodlust she felt from his had been nothing like before.

The girl who embodied the legend of Jack the Ripper shivered, curling up tightly in a ball next to her master on a ratty old sofa. She was scared… no, _terrified_ of that man. Unfazed by her abilities, that cold gaze of his was burned into her mind; his presence loomed over her like an omen of death. Her only chance against him was to amass as much power as she could, and fast. They had killed countless people, taken their lives and devoured their souls, but was it enough?

The only sound that could be heard was the low roar of the torrential rain, the thick clouds in the sky obscuring any sense of time, like they had fallen into another world. She looked up at her Master, who was calmly reading a book he had taken from one of their victims; he seemed totally unaware of how dangerous a situation they were in. They were close to being backed into a corner, no, maybe they were already trapped. But his obliviousness was oddly calming, and soon the steady rhythm of his heartbeat began to lull her to sleep.

She awoke with a start, unable to tell how much time had passed, that wasn't good, how could she protect her Master like that? The endless rain continued to fall, drowning out the usual sounds of the city, even her heightened senses as Assassin weren't enough to contact it. She couldn't see him; he was nowhere to be seen in the room, where? Where was her Master? She leapt to her feet in a panic, had something happened while she was asleep? Due to his total lack of skills as a Magus, she couldn't sense his presence as she should be able to.

The front door swung open and her master walked in casually, a plastic bag in one hand and a dripping wet umbrella in the other. He tossed the umbrella away with no regard for it and slammed the door behind him, before he returned to the couch and sat down next to her.

"Hungry?" he smiled and handed the bag in his hand to her, unaware of the terror he had caused her. The bag was full of assorted snacks from a nearby convenience store, all what you would call 'junk food'

"M-Master… I told you not to go outside by yourself anymore, it's dangerous!" the sight of this small child scolding a grown man would be quite a thing to behold, if they weren't alone in an abandoned building. "What if somebody followed you back to us?"

"Sorry sorry, won't happen again, I promise." Despite her protests, she took a box of chocolates from the bag and quickly opened them with her nimble hands. Ryuunosuke smiled and put his hand on her head, leaning back in his seat. He took an individually wrapped rice ball out of the bag of 'supplies' and opened it, taking a large bite mindlessly. Maybe she was worrying for nothing, it seemed like only one Servant even knew about her, and he should know that she was no threat to him by now.

The wooden front door was slammed off it's hinges so forcefully it was practically an explosion, a hail of wooden shards filled the room, all flying fast enough to be deadly in their own right. With her superhuman reflexes she throw Ryuunosuke to the ground behind the couch, damn, she had really hoped she was just being paranoid. One of the fractured door shards embedded itself in her shoulder before she had a chance to avoid it; the searing pain caused her vision to go white.

She pulled the door fragment out of her shoulder, this pain was nothing after the initial shock, she wouldn't falter here! Stepping out of the rain and into the house, the golden haired servant was surprisingly dry, as if he hadn't been in a storm just moments ago.

The Servant Assassin was not meant for actual combat like this, just being in the open put her at even more of a disadvantage than she was already in. She couldn't afford a drawn out battle, especially not with her master so close by. Her arm a blur, she threw the wooden shard in her hand at him, it wouldn't be an effective weapon by maybe it could distract him for at least a moment. Her hopes of that were dashed quickly, as he sidestepped it like it was nothing and lunged forward.

She summoned her Noble Phantasm, The Mist, the rusted old lantern appearing in her hands. He would be on top of her any second now, she had to light it before then or it was hopeless. Only with its debilitating effect could she even hope to match another servant in one on one combat, as her stats were all incredibly low due to her being a rather 'young' Heroic Spirit.

Or rather, it wasn't that she was weak compared to other Servants, but that her opponent was just too _damn strong_. She could only imagine what kind of hero had have to be to possess such extraordinary skills. She placed her finger on the lantern's wick and with a small infusion of mana the flame inside burst to life. Nearly instantly the black smog began to pour out of the lantern. The smoke swirled around her and soon the room was completely filled with its miasma, the only space it didn't reach was where she stood with his master, who was still prone on the floor.

A golden fist shot out of the smoke next to her, narrowly missing her face. The shear force of the punch seemed to cause a minor shockwave in the air. Jack took one of her knives into her free hand and raised it in a defensive position, her eyes darting back and forth around what little of the room she could still see, but no attack came. At this time Ryuunosuke managed to come back to his senses and he stood up with a wince, rubbing his face where he had hit the floor.

"..!" She glanced back at her Master, a momentary lapse of attention to the fight that shouldn't have had any effect, but in that split second her guard dropped another attack began. Out of the smog flew a snake, had he thrown it at her? She didn't have enough time to react, and soon the snake had wrapped around her body, its grip tightening on her weapon arm. The arm that held her lantern was already injured by the initial attack, and she couldn't put down her noble phantasm either, slowly her options were being limited.

She had no other choice; the only weapon that was left to her was her body, without hesitation her teeth sunk into the snake's body. Blood ruptured from her neck as the damage she caused the snake reflected back onto her, an ability she was unaware he possessed, a wave of confusion passed over her mind as she tried to figure out what had happened.

The snake, unharmed but apparently no longer interested in its prey, released its hold of her arm and fell to the floor before slithering back into the smoke. In its place the form of her true enemy emerged from the smoke, as if the cursed smog had no effect on his speed. Faster than she could even think her reflexes had reacted to him, thrusting her knife up at him. He quickly stepped past her swing and grabbed her arm, and in one swift motion threw her over his head and into the wall behind him.

Before she could even hit the floor after bouncing off the wall, he had already closed back in. His fists glowed with his golden power, the ability that made him a Heroic Spirit of such high caliber, but they weren't aimed at her. He threw a straight punch directly at her own Noble Phantasm, the cursed lantern that created endless black fog. He smashed the lantern into the wall along with his fist, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris with the impact.

Jack grasped two of her knives in her hands, while they were Noble Phantasms; their rank was far too weak to be very effective against this man. She lunged at him, both arms coiled to strike, if she could just hit a vital spot on his body… but her blades never even reached their target, the back of his hand whipped across her face and sent her tumbling to the ground, did he just slap her?

"It's useless, girl," he turned his back to her, facing her still dumbfounded Master. There was nothing she could do; time seemed to slow down around her, unknown to her this was the effect of being hit by his ability; her body was paralyzed as she had no choice but to watch. "Savor this taste of pain…"

Ryuunosuke tried to run, but a human couldn't hope to compete with any Servant, let alone this one in terms of speed. In what seemed like a single step, he was right behind the fleeing murderer, his fist pulled back and ready to strike.

"WRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY!" A primal shout with no real meaning behind it, but something he rarely did involuntarily when his emotions actually showed past his stony façade. Had Ryuunosuke known this he might have felt proud, proud that his accomplishments as a murderer had driven him that that level of anger, an extremely hard feat. But of course, the only thing on Ryuunosuke's mind at this point was the golden fist protruding from his chest.

For some reason the murderer known as Uryuu Ryuunosuke laughed, apparently finding the color of his own blood quite hilarious. The gold haired Servant pulled his arm free and let the dying man drop to the floor unceremoniously, before turning back to Jack. With tears streaming down her face she stood up and charged at him, even if she knew it was hopeless, even if she would die, she had to move forward. To her surprise, the Servant before he didn't attempt to block or dodge, and her attack connected, one of her knives embedding itself in his chest.

"It isn't over," she couldn't tell if his voice was threatening or comforting, maybe it was both? She looked up at him with her large tearful eyes; his face remained the same as it always had, his cold eyes meeting her gaze. 'In fact, your 'end' has no ending."

She felt the impact of his fist against her stomach, but she didn't scream in pain, not even when it tore completely through her small body's organs. She fell backwards, blood trickling down the side of her mouth. Strange, she remembered her death being cold, but her body was so _warm_ right now, maybe this wasn't so bad after all…

The body of assassin, unable to remain in the world, vanished without a trace. He left Ryuunosuke's body, hopefully allowing the local police to solve the serial murders around town; he didn't seem like the type who covered his tracks well. With his business concluded, Giorno Giovanna exited the house silently and disappeared into the rain.


	5. Chapter 4: Hollow

Sweat rolled down his bare back and his muscles, honed from countless hours of training tensed. Before him was a man... no, a machine in the form of a man; wrapped in a black cloak and a white mask obscuring its face. This mechanical man, this false Assassin, sprang forward in an instant, a knife raised against him. Its movements were fast, far too fast for an ordinary human to keep up with, but he was no ordinary human.

With swift and careful footwork he slipped past the Assassin's attack and drew back his left hand into a fist. Like a cannon being fired his fist shot out in an incredibly powerful straight punch, a blur of motion even he would struggle to follow. His fist impacted, launching the mechanical Assassin across the empty room in the forgotten warehouse they resided within.

As an Executor of the Church, his entire body was a finely tuned weapon, specialized in fighting against targets that far exceeded human ability. Heretics, rogue Magi, even monstrous phantasmal beasts and vampires all fell to his skills just the same. If he wanted to, he could likely end this farce of a war on his own skill alone were he to target the Masters, he was confident in his skills. But he wasn't a fool, not arrogant enough where he thought to test his prowess against a true Servant.

The fallen Golem twitched and sprang back to life, His last strike had meant to end it, but he must have underestimated the golem's endurance. The golem switched to long range combat, launching a barrage of pitch black knives in his direction.

In the blink of an eye he had drawn his own ranged blades, the Holy Scriptures turned weapons known as Black Keys. At this point they were only handles, but when he activated his magic circuits and poured mana into them they became long throwing daggers with magical blades.

He leapt backwards, deftly avoiding the first volley of the Golem's knives with a flip a professional acrobat would find hard to match. He hit the ground in a roll and as soon as he had stopped he unleashed two of the blades in his hand, in terms of skill with the Black Keys, he was rivaled only by the Burial Agency member who was nicknamed 'Bow.' And, true to his confidence, his throws hit their marks, embedding deep into the golem's back as it tried to flee.

It wasn't like training like this really helped him, he was already more skilled than even the best of his Servant's golems. But he continued to hone his skills against them, it was better than sitting around and waiting for Tokiomi's orders. With the latest of his practice dummies destroyed, Kirei Kotomine picked up a towel next to the warehouse door and wiped the sweat from his body before donning his usual priest vestments. He took a last look at the destroyed construct, but nothing in his heart stirred, there was no joy to be had in killing these golems. Finally, he descended the stairs to the basement, where his servant had set up his base of operations..

As he stepped down into the workshop, his mind began to wander, it seemed it was doing that more than usual these days. Ever since he had read the reports on the potential Masters in the war, a specific individual continued to rise to the top of his thoughts. Kiritsugu Emiya, the infamous Magus Killer, a heretical mage who used underhanded means to assassinate his targets and who rejected the classical ways of magecraft in favor of modern weaponry.

A complete enigma, Kirei couldn't comprehend his motives at all, why did he seemingly throw himself into conflict for no reason? Did he perhaps enjoy violence, or was it something else? And yet, despite his lack of understanding, he felt some strange pull towards him, as if the answers Kirei sought about himself lay with the Magus Killer. If they were, as he suspected, similar existences, learning more about the motivation of this Kiritsugu Emiya might allow him to discover the reason behind his _lack_ of motivation in all he did.

His duties to the church, his study of magecraft leading up to this ritual, even his attempt to have a normal life and start a family, they all felt hollow to him, nothing brought him any emotion other than boredom, they were simply things to pass the time without growing too idle. Nothing could make him happy; nothing filled him with joy or cheer. That isn't to say however, that he was completely without emotions, if he were he wouldn't experience boredom, and he had at least once before felt something akin to anger, though it wasn't very strong of a feeling.

He entered the basement workshop of Caster as the eccentric servant was just finishing another golem, one that looked rather like a man horrifically fused to a spider. The Servant removed the golem from his workbench and scrawled out various notes in a script utterly illegible to Kirei. But while he couldn't understand the notes, he understood the Servant's goals, he was seeking perfection, and when he completed a golem that was unsatisfactory, he would return to the drawing board and create another, hardly ever resting.

The spider-like golem awoke at its creator's command, mana flowing from the servant into the puppet, and as soon as it had it begun to work beside its master. Evidently a golem designed to speed up work on more of its kind rather than an attempt at his ultimate creation, the proof of his worth as a Heroic Spirit that possessed a conceptual existence so strong it became Caster's Noble Phantasm despite never having existed. Yes, the Noble Phantasm of the Servant Solomon ibn Gabirol, was something he himself had never completed in his life as a human, and even now as a servant he strived to finish it.

This fact had greatly upset Tokiomi, who had originally intended for Kirei to summon a servant of the Assassin class, but a minor mix-up with the summoning ritual called forth a Caster instead. After learning the identity of the Servant his mood had improved, only to be once again dashed when he learned that Solomon's ultimate construct, his Noble Phantasm, was incomplete and unusable.

Caster and Kirei rarely spoke, but it was not out of any real reason, but simply a combination of their personalities. Caster, who was reclusive in life, was unskilled in conversation, often not even responding when addressed. And combined with the stoic Kirei Kotomine, who had little need for conversation himself and next to no interest in Caster's work in golem crafting, you have a Master and Servant who operated almost completely independently from each other. This day would be no different, if it weren't for Tokiomi's intervention, Kirei's master in the magical arts and partner in the war desired a report on caster's progress, and he had no reason to refuse his request.

"Caster, my master wishes to know if there is anything he can do in his power to speed up the progress of your research," Kirei took a seat on a sofa that was once a part of his room at the church, but he had it brought here, the church was far too boring a place for him to remain the rest of the war after all. "Tell me how your work goes, and have one of 'those' golems prepare some tea."

From the corner of the room, a golem that was inexplicably in the form of a young girl dressed in a maid uniform stirred, leaving and quickly returning with a pot of tea. The golem maid poured the priest a cup and returned to her spot in the workshop, where it remained motionless.

"Why does Tokiomi need to know…" Caster's voice was devoid of emotion and sounded as if he had to strain himself to even speak at all, he paused momentarily and sketched something on a piece of parchment "about my work? He doesn't use us to our full potential in the war; a true Magus should use all of his resources for ritual such as this."

The normally quiet and reserved Servant was unusually talkative today, Kirei was sure that was the most he had ever said to him about his master, Tokiomi. He lifted his cup of tea to his lips; the faint aroma of the leaves gave off a soothing atmosphere that clashed quite strongly with the Magus workshop before him. Unbothered by the fact he was surrounded by a factory full of disembodied artificial limbs and twisted forms, Kirei closed his eyes and drank his tea calmly.

"I agree, with our strength we could defeat most of the other master ourselves, with or without your noble phantasm." Kirei placed his empty cup on the table in front of him, crossed his legs, and looked at Caster. The servant didn't stop his work, in fact, his pace only increased. "But still, I have to tell him something of your progress, has your work been going along smoothly?"

"Yes, Master, it goes about as well as something of this scale can. I could have the designs completed within a few weeks, but procuring a core with enough power and purity to make it function is a far greater task."

"But if you had this 'core', you could complete it?" Kirei's studies into the magical arts did not include much on golem-crafting, but he understood that without a magical core the golem would not move, could not be brought to life. "I'll inform him shortly."

"Why do you still follow a master who has no need of you?" Caster, unusually inquisitive for whatever reason, his eccentricities were hard to predict after all, actually ceased his work and moved to the makeshift sitting room in the corner, taking a chair across from Kirei's position. "You said it yourself, we could win most of the war ourselves, but neither you nor your master seems interested in attempting such a feat."

With a flick of his wrist, the maid golem returned to life, under Caster's direct control. The Golem swiftly left the room, and returned with an ornate western styled teacup, unlike Kirei's Japanese styled cup. It refilled Kirei's drink and poured a fresh cup for its creator, then returned to the back of the room and went dormant once more. Taking his cup in one hand, Caster pushed his mask up just enough to allow himself to drink, then returned it to its proper position when he was done.

"I have no desire for the Grail, nor any wish for it to grant. Tokiomi is aware of this, so he's chosen a support roll for me. Why, do you desire the Holy Grail, Caster?" The scene playing out was quite absurd, for a Master and Servant who had barely spoken to each other for the months leading up to the war since his summoning, to now be casually drinking tea… maybe Caster just had to get used to Kirei before he was able to openly speak to him? "Since your magnum opus can be completed without the grail's intervention, I'd think that you too would be disinterested in it?"

"I have not the desire nor the need of this 'Grail', I simply find it strange that for a Magus like Tokiomi, who has no greater desire than to reach the root of the world, would forsake such a powerful follower. With proper teamwork, this war could have been ended already, and easily."

"I wasn't aware that you held so many opinions towards my teacher, Caster." Kirei leaned forward in his seat and picked up a piece of paper from the table, it was the report gathered by Tokiomi on the infamous Magus Killer Kiritsugu Emiya, whenever there was a lull of action Kirei found himself reading it again and again, as if the contents might change. "But for now, we go with his plan, though if an opportunity arises where my independent action is worth more than staying on Tokiomi's good side, I will take it."

His words, while truthful, were not fully in line with his current thoughts. He really couldn't care less about Tokiomi's opinion of him; he had only sided with him as a matter of convenience, not wanting to bother with this war in the first place. Yes, his only real interest at the moment was what answers he could gleam from the mystery that was Kiritsugu Emiya, and sitting around here drinking tea was certainly not going to give him any answers.

"Were you perhaps, to send a scout golem to monitor the Einzbern territory, and that scout just happened to find a weakness within their bounded field that allowed us to slip in undetected…" Kirei stood up and turned towards the stairs, but didn't begin to leave right then. "And this weakness was not something we could take advantage of for more than a short while, I suppose we'd have no choice but to act of our own volition, yes?"

Despite his words carrying no emotions, his intentions were clear to his servant, who nodded at his command and spoke a short magical aria, bringing to life a small force of scout-type golems from within the workshop.

Kirei Kotomine left his Servant's makeshift factory, he felt the air behind him shift as three or four inhumanly fast golems rushed past him. Now, he had to deliver his report to Tokiomi, then all that was left was to wait, the machinations of Kirei's plans were beginning to move. Soon he'd have the answers he wanted; it was only a matter of time before he would finally be able to clear his mind of his endless thoughts about Kiritsugu Emiya.

* * *

Giorno Giovanna stood atop a high rising skyscraper in the downtown area of Fuyuki city, his view overlooking the vast majority of it. A cold breeze cut through him, but his resilient spiritual body all but made it a non issue. Truth be told, there was not much of interest to him on in what he was viewing. His eyesight, enhanced both by his stand and the parameters of the Archer Class, could see even the street level around him clearly, but he wasn't here to sightsee. His eyes scanned the city below, waiting for something, anything to catch his attention.

He didn't expect to find the enemy like this, but it felt better than doing nothing to him. Tokiomi was quite content to let the other Masters thin each other out, but such an idle plan didn't sit well with him. Especially not before he settled things with both Berserker and Lancer's Master, the latter of which he had hoped to find today, but again had no luck. Of course, a skilled Magus wouldn't show himself in broad daylight during this ritual, and certainly a coward such as him wouldn't take personal action unless he was sure of his victory.

Which made it all the more surprising when he felt the faint mana of a Servant passing below him, at first he expected an attack and quickly backed away from the roof's edge and raised his fists, but no Servant came. There was indeed no attack on his position, like they hadn't even noticed his presence, or, if they had, completely ignored it. He could somehow recognize this servant by the feeling of his mana, one of the three knight classes like his own class of Archer.

"Looks like I've finally found you, Lancer…" in one swift motion, he leapt from the building returning to spirit form in midair. Lancer, and hopefully his Master, were heading out of the city, towards a forest that he understood was the territory of another Magus family, the Einzberns. Giorno knew that the only remaining choice of Servant the Einzbern Master controlled was Saber, he had seen her fight once, but not witnessed her full power, but it shouldn't be a problem for him.

His pursuit was short lived, and he wasn't even able to confirm if Lancer traveled with his Master or not. He had been on the Servant's tail when a voice had intruded upon his thoughts, that of his Master Tokiomi. Even for a man such as himself, Giorno was still uncomfortable with a magus inside of his mind.

"Archer, I must speak with you immediately, return as soon as possible to my study." His Master beckoned, and he wasn't one to ignore such an urgent summons. His frustration did not show on his face, but he couldn't help but think Tokiomi's timing Couldn't have been much worse.

For a Servant as fast as he was, returning to the Tohsaka estate was a simple task, he doubted even a speeding car would give him trouble in this body; it seemed his rebirth certainly came with some advantages. If perhaps… if he had had a body like this in his old world, maybe he could have done more, could he have avoided the end that brought him here? Giorno shook his head at the thought, there was no use considering it, he already had his path, looking back would only slow him down.

He materialized at the door to Tokiomi's study, an action that perhaps wasted some time, but it was his Master's request that he do so. Quickly turning the handle of the door, he slipped inside. His Master stood over the makeshift bar in the office, a glass of dark brown alcohol in his hand.

"I am here on your summons, Master. It must be an important task if you were to pull me out of my tracking of our enemies so hastily." Giorno's face was as serious as ever, a cold arrogance that looked down on everyone, even his own Master. Tokiomi had grown used to his Servant's attitude, but today he was clearly not in the mood. He downed the entire glass and nearly slammed it against his desk.

"What's so important, you ask? Just my entire plan, all of my calculations thrown off balance! First Kirei summons Caster, then I summon you and not the King of Heroes!" For Tokiomi, who normally tried to remain composed, a fit of anger to this level was quite unusual. "I had thought that things were working out for the better, your power was more than I could have dreamed of, and Caster's golem suited my plans perfectly, but no, everything is falling apart at the seams!"

"Master, you would do well to calm yourself, I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about." He approached the magus and took a seat in a large velvet chair, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knee. "From my perspective, we're close to winning this war. I've defeated Assassin and have a strong grasp on Berserker's strengths, it won't be long before I can devise a method of defeating that mad dog."

"Kirei has… strayed from his mission." Tokiomi rubbed the bridge of his none and sighed. "I don't know if it was in order to be more useful to us, or if he's decided loyalty is unnecessary, but that man has sent an ungodly amount of Golems to attack the Einzbern castle, leading them personally."

"That is a problem; it could lead to him revealing himself both as an active master, and Caster's" Giorno stood up abruptly. "It would be rather embarrassing for both of us, were the trick we played at the start of the war to be revealed."

"I'm not worried about Caster's discovery, he would have had to surface eventually to avoid suspicion. But Kirei's role in my plans requires that the others believe he's out of the running, without that his value to me significantly diminishes" He poured himself another glass, and before long it too was gone. "So I need you to go bring him back, before he does something that would upset me further."

"I'll try my best, but fate appears to want to give me a hard time," Giorno stood up and stretched his arms out before him.

"Can you feel something I do not? Please elaborate."

"Lancer was headed towards the Einzberns as well, I was tracking his movements before you summoned me. And if I make a move it's quite likely Berserker will show himself as well, his Master has some kind of grudge against you." Giorno turned away from his Master, his hand slid into his pocket as he struck a casual pose, his other hand extended out to the side. "But if a brawl gets going again, I'll try not to get stuck in it until I've dealt with Kotomine."

Tokiomi nodded his approval, an act Giorno did not even see, as he had already returned to spirit form and left the building, his speed even faster than before. He wasn't lying, he would avoid the fighting if he could, but a battle between Servants isn't one that's easily avoided...

* * *

It was a scene of total carnage, a hellish battlescape that even heroic spirits would be hard-pressed to overcome. Despite his weak stature, this war's Caster class was actually well suited to frontline combat, though not personally. According to Tokiomi's plan, Caster had been summoned almost a year prior to the war began, and he had used that time to build up his strength using the only talent he possessed, the art of golem creation.

In a month the golem master could produce hundreds, if not thousands of his constructs. All of them of a quality a modern magus could only achieve once in a lifetime, though none could stand up to the might of a Servant on their own, it was the sheer number of them that made them a threat. One man, no matter how strong, can not defeat an army, that was the core of his strategy.

A hero supplements an army, they do not replace them. And for the lone knight clad in blue armor, this was a lesson she was learning in the most painful way possible. She stood against a horde of mechanical enemies, there was no end in sight for them, and her strength was already beginning to fade. The Servant known as Saber was no stranger to assaults of this scale, but in her time she would have an army at her back supporting her. whereas now she was but a single azure speck in a sea of hulking bronze creatures, struggling to survive.

She gripped her sword, sheathed in its Noble Phantasm 'Invisible Air', in her uninjured hand. Were it not for Lancer's spear, which inflicted cursed wounds that could not be healed by any means; she might have had an easier time of it. But with only one hand functioning, most of her high level swordsmanship was locked out of her available options, including her trump card, the true form of her concealed blade

She dashed forward, using bursts of mana to support the added weight of swinging her longsword single handedly. Her swing easily cleaved through the Golem in front of her, but as soon as the halved construct fell another two to three took its place. She could only imagine this was how that legendary Greek hero felt against the infamous Hydra.

A massive golem at least twice her size made an improbable leap that defied the laws of nature, it's wrecking ball of a fist slamming into the ground where she had been just moments before. A single second slower and she would have been crushed into the earth, though it's unlikely that she would have died from it.

She thrust her sword straight into the golem's body, piercing through its core in one stroke. Another aspect of these golems that dragged the fight out almost endlessly was that unless they were completely destroyed, they would continue to fight even if they had lost half of their body.

Releasing a burst of mana beneath her, she took to the air before coming down rapidly in a spinning slash, three golems in her path exploded into a storm of metallic debris with the force of her strike.

A golem moved to attack her, it's thin body far swifter than the others. Instead of hands, it's arms ended in two curved blades. Had this night been a fight, she might have thought this creature was a disgusting mockery of the human form, but she had no time for those kinds of thoughts.

Saber rolled to the left, a blade glancing off her armor. She swung back towards the golem, but it evaded her, jumping over her sword and gracefully landing on the flat of the blade. It was perhaps that being a Servant made her overconfident, as normally she would have defeated such a foe without breaking a sweat.

The golem's bladed hands swung down like a scythe towards her exposed head, an attack she had no way to dodge in time. Instead she opted to block it, throwing her wounded left arm in front of the blow.

The metal blades scraped violently against her gauntlet, it would have been a perfect deflection had she not blocked with her bad arm. A sharp pain shot through her entire left side, and she staggered back. Gritting her teeth and pushing through the pain, she threw her wounded arm up and forced away the blades. With an echoing cry, she twisted her upper body and swung her sword like a bat, smashing the assassin golem against a tree and in a flash of sparks it was destroyed.

Now her arm had been rendered even more useless than before; it seemed the blitz strategy of the golems was proving effective. Relentlessly they continued the attack. Blades clashed against each other in an inferno of sparks, each exchange of blows cast an otherworldly glow across the shadows of the forest.

A hulking golem sallied out of the ranks; it was humanoid, through in the vaguest sense of the word. It was markedly different from the rest, while every golem before her was an exquisite work, this one could be called a true masterpiece by any magus, sans its finicky creator.

Standing over twice the height of the nearest sized golems, which already dwarfed her small frame, it was a truly intimidating creation unlike the rest. A testament to its fine construction was it's unnatural swiftness for it's mass, even able to keep pace with her. It's power was beyond belief, easily able to send the surrounding golems and trees flying with every movement it made.

It shouldn't be this close of a match for her, and in indeed, in her prime condition it would have been an easy opponent to best. But not today, the weariness of extended combat combined with her wounded hand put her in a position where this brutish machine could match her.

She rolled out of the path of a massive fist, which flew past her and cracked a tree in two with ease. While not on par with the most powerful of heroic spirits, this golem could be considered something that approached being 'Servant Class'. Saber was completely put on the defensive, it moved too fast for her to attack it carelessly, so she'd have to bide her time and avoid any further damage.

Her mana built up inside of her, finally bursting forth to propel her blade faster than the eye could see, cutting a wide arc before her. Her intention however was not an offensive strike, but a deflection. Her sword clashed with the golem's oversized fist, showering her in sparks as it dug into the magically reinforced bronze. But the golem's force was greater than hers, and she was easily hurled back by the strike, crashing through the trees into a nearby clearing.

She couldn't have hoped for a better outcome however, as her new surroundings were a more favorable battleground. She thanked whichever god decided to allow such a fortunate event to occur before leaping back to her feet. With renewed confidence, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and took a deep breath. This respite might only last a moment, but she was glad for it all the same.

"Come back for more already, have you?" the persistence of this army was wearing on her nerves, wasn't Caster worried about exhausting his stockpiles? No matter, if he became unable to fight any longer, it would only aid her down the line. With those thoughts in the forefront of her mind, she leapt into the air and slashed up.

Her opponents were, if anything, predicable. Having sensed them before they had a chance to act, the two golems fell to her blade with little effort. She couldn't help but smile, was this all they could send at her? Either Caster massively overestimated his ability, or he wasn't taking her seriously.

It was possible, that in this brief moment, for a split second and nothing more that Saber forgot something important. Not that she would ever admit to it, and there was none here to prove otherwise, save for the trees. However, it was the only explanation for the following events.

She landed on the ground, her light body barely making a sound even in her heavy armor. With those two golems defeated the clearing was silent, she took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. And then she was thrown across the grove by a herculean blow from behind her.

The world became a blur as she flew through the sky, spinning faster then she ever wanted to again. She had let her ground down sure, but how did such a massive construct actually manage to _sneak up _on her? She impacted the ground like a cannonball, creating an explosion of dirt that covered the clearing in a cloud of debris.

Careless, how utterly careless of her! How could she have allowed this to happen, when she had just been struggling against it just moments before? Ignoring her aching body, she crawled to her feet, using her sword as a crutch.

Was this her limit? Was she really going to fall here, against of foe that was not even another Servant? Her mind was filled with doubts, was this even the right path to take, or was she following a misguided dream?

But with the golem fast approaching, she didn't have time to think about this. She gathered what remained of her strength and raised her sword towards the advancing foe. She took hold of it with both hands, ignoring the intense pain that assaulted her left hand as she did so.

It was closing in on her, but she stood firm, she only had one shot at this. She watched and waited for the one moment she could use to grasp victory. Her face displayed only her steel resolve, but it was only a façade, for within she was wracked with fear. But if she failed here, how could she face her fallen companions in the next life?

The golem's fist crashed into the ground, shaking the forest with a massive shockwave. But it had missed, at the last second Saber jumped back, and now it was the time she had waited for. She wouldn't lose, she would defeat this golem and survive, and then she would claim the Holy Grail.

She stepped onto the golem's hand, and with unparalleled speed rushed up to its head, using the lowered arm as a ramp. It realized her plan right away, and threw its arm up to shake her off of it, but she used that to her advantage.

"Haaahh!" With a cry, she fell through the sky like a bullet aimed at the golem's head. It raised its arms to try and defend, but the force of her slash was like none before it. She easily cleaved through both arms in a single slash, a blow that carried through and struck the construct's head.

Her blade cut down the entire length of the golem's body, the only sound left in the forest was the sound of metal scraping against metal. And then its massive form lurched forward, she barely had time to escape its collapse as it fell to the ground, now a harmless hunk of bronze.

She stumbled away from the fallen golem, panting heavily. Her wounded arm was deteriorating even faster now, she might not even be able to defeat Lancer at this point, but she would have to worry about that later, because she wasn't safe yet.

The clearing filled with more and more golems, she was completely surrounded before she could react. The fight had reverted to the beginning once again, but now she was even closer to defeat. She cursed her body for being so weak, even as a heroic spirit. All hope within her had almost faded away, when a green blur came into view.

"Well fought Saber, I'm not sure I could have handled that myself if I were in your condition!" It was a voice she recognized, Lancer's. His twin spears danced through the sea of enemies, and within the blink of an eye he stood before her. "Looks like you could use a hand."

"Lancer…" Saber's voice shook, barely able to remain in the cool and composed tone of a knight. Intentionally or not, he had upstaged her. Even worse, she had actually needed his help in the moment, though she would never admit it. "Why save me, would it not be better for you if I were to fall here?"

The battle had no intention of pausing to allow the servants to speak to one another, and the mindless golems continued to press their attack. Saber's face distorted in pain as she pushed her body past its limits, removing the head of a nearby construct with her latest slash.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, huh?" Lancer's cursed spear that ate away at all magic easily pierced the enchanted golem's bodies. Not worn out like Saber, his strikes cut down the horde like it was nothing. It was all she could do to not be caught up in her awe at his skill, now wasn't the time. "A sound strategy for sure, but now one I'd ever be satisfied employing!"

A golem leapt in, a bladed hand raised to strike against Lancer. The Servant drew his shortspear and shifted his body to the side, deflecting the blow easily. Following his parry his longspear shot through the construct in a savage riposte, cutting cleanly through its magical core in one stroke.

"I'm in agreement, Lancer. It would be most unsatisfying if you died before we had our rematch." For the first time in this battle of attrition with the golems, Saber smiled. Fighting side by side with Lancer felt perfectly natural to her, it was almost like… almost like she was back in her time, fighting with her friends.

And thus the two knights fought, for it was all they knew. Their entire lives, their worth as heroic spirits, they put everything into it. Soon, only the sounds of steel remained, but the fight was far from over. The golems were still endless.

* * *

His golden-blond hair, tied back in its usual small ponytail was the only sign of movement from his still body. He could have easily been mistaken for a statue were it not for the wind rustling through his hair and clothing.

He had arrived outside of the Einzbern forest only a few moments ago, but stopped his charge when his senses picked up something. The movement behind him could only be one thing, he could feel the rage building up in the Servant from where he was.

"You really must want to die quickly… Kariya Matou," his voice as cold as ever, he spoke to the enemy Magus, not bothering to turn around. "Dogs who can't learn their lesson… should be put down."

The white haired Magus looked even closer to the abyss of death, clenched his shaking fist, his one working eye glared at the Giorno's back. One look at him was enough to tell, he would be dead within a few days, he wouldn't make it past the week.

"Shut up, I didn't come here to talk… Berserker…" he clutched at his chest and fell to one knee, panting heavily, the strain of even summoning his servant from spiritual form eroded his life further. "Finish it now… kill him!"

The space between them distorted, and the Servant Berserker appeared, its true form still obscured in a black miasma. With a roar that chilled to the bone, the mad servant threw its arms out and howled at the darkening skies above. His body radiated powerful waves of madness, threatening to swallow the surrounding area.

Finally, Giorno Giovanna turned around to face his enemies. He grabbed the opening to his blue suit jacket and pulled it to the right, his left arm he placed on his hip and his upper body shifted to the side. His face like carved marble, he posed.

This body was no longer human, that much he knew all along, but it took time for his mind to fully adjust to the idea of fighting with his own hands. Without knowing the full extent of his abilities any longer, he wasn't able to display his full power in his previous fights, would today be different? He still wasn't used to the changes in his Stand, as it seemed to follow a different set of rules in this world, but he was starting to see it's limits.

"I don't have time to play around with you, so I hope you won't mind if I go all out from the start." His words weren't a question or a threat, he fully intended to end things as soon as possible "But I'll let you savor the full extent of my Gold Experience!"

It was impossible to say who moved first, within seconds both servants had cleared the game between them, both nearly breaking the sound barrier. With a roar the mad Berserker launched its fist in a mighty blow, Giorno should have known how powerful the Servant was, but he didn't try and dodge the attack.

"Muda!" with a shout, his golden clad fist met the Berserker's blackened gauntlet. he couldn't match the beasts brute strength, but his Stand augmented his abilities far above their base levels. If his normal strength could be considered 'E', when he used his Stand it raised to around 'B'. But it still wasn't enough, Berserker's strength was still greater than his. Despite his best efforts, he was pushed back.

Without wasting time, as soon as he recovered from being staggered he thrust his fist into the ground. The golden energy of his Stand flowed into the earth, exploding out from under the Mad Servant. An enormous mass of vines born within the earth by his power ensnared Berserker, Giorno knew it wouldn't hold him long, but he needed to make an opening, no matter how small!

"Such an annoying enemy, but I won't let you have the upper hand!" Giorno leapt into the tangle of plant life he had created, the vines parting to allow him entry. Without hesitation he lunged at the trapped Servant, pulling his fist back to strike.

Berserker roared in its usual unintelligible sound, followed by a loud snapping sound as it pulled an arm free of the vines. Giorno threw a punch, faster than Berserker's, but the mad beast almost matched him. Giorno's arm slid along the beast's armor, the metal tearing through his jacket and into his flesh. Simultaneously, their fists collided with the other Servant's face.

Berserker's other arm broke from it's hold and grabbed Giorno, with a single powerful motion, he hurled the smaller Servant away. With a roar the Madman leapt out of the tangle, unfazed by the reflective damage caused by the Stand's abilities.

Berserker hit the ground with a deafening crash, cracks forming in the surrounding area. Blood dripped from various gaps in its armor, but the damage wasn't enough so slow down the mindless beast as it approached Giorno's prone form.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅！" The Berserker kicked the downed Archer, his heavy boot shattering his ribs and sending him careening through the sky. Giorno crashed against a tree, the impact knocking the air out of his lungs. Falling to his knees, he gasped for breath through the pain of his broken bones. His Stand wouldn't work if he couldn't breathe, that was a rule that hadn't changed.

Finally able to draw out his power, he repaired his body in a flash of light and stood back up. His face showed none of his emotions, but inside of him something stirred. His enemy was massively above his league, but this is how he'd always fought, and he always won in the end.

He wouldn't let this Servant get the best of him a third time, he would prevail against these odds no matter what. The Mad Servant rushed in, brandishing a massive tree trunk as a weapon. His Noble Phantasm turned anything it held into a weapon able to harm Servants, Giorno shuddered to think about what would happen if it gained access to modern weaponry.

Berserker thrust its makeshift weapon at Giorno, who easily sidestepped it with his overwhelming agility and closed in against him. His next attack came from the side, the swiftness of it nearly bending the laws of physics. Giorno caught the attack in his hands, calling forth as much of his power as he could, the golden light poured into the makeshift Noble Phantasm.

He would see who was really stronger, him or Berserker. The Mad Servant's power could overpower his stand's created life, but how would it hold up against a direct assault?

The gold energy burst forth from the branch, and it transformed into a massive serpent, Giorno delivered a swift kick to berserker's arm that held the snake, and the Servant's grip weakened.

For the first time in the War, Berserker retreated. The blackened frame of the Servant leapt away from the snake and into the trees, hiding itself from Giorno's sight.

From the treetops, the Shadowy form of the insane knight came sailing down at him, poised to land a powerful kick against the golden haired boy. A tree was born under Giorno's feet, thrusting him into the sky right as the mad Servant's body came crashing down on his last position.

Giorno's foot slammed into the Berserker's helmet, with a force he didn't know he had in him. The Knight fell to the ground with a thunderous crash, and Giorno landed another kick against his back. But he could feel that he had failed, the unstoppable Servant had taken no damage from those attacks.

"..!" Giorno instinctively took a step back, and just as soon as he had the Berserk burst to its feet and launched a punch into his chest. Somehow managing to remain standing, Giorno leap out of it's range.

Giorno hated to admit it, but he couldn't beat this Servant with his own power, not without defying Tokiomi's order to avoid using his Requiem. He had no problems doing so, but he didn't want to play his trump card so early.

For the first time since his summoning, Giorno truly wished his comrades were here. He didn't need his entire gang, he just wanted his most valued friends. With them at his side, maybe he could have won.

Not wanting to retreat, he considered his next actions to be 'tactical positioning' as he dashed full speed into the forest behind him. He could hear the thrashing of Berserker behind him, but he maintained his sprint. He had no friends, no allies in this world, but that didn't matter.

He would make a situation, one where others were forced to aid him for their own good, and so he headed for the distant sounds of battle. Saber presumably, and one other Servant were engaged against Kotomine's golems in this forest, he'd just need to lead the mad dog to them.

Berserker came into view to his left, carrying another tree trunk like it was nothing. The mad Servant swung the trunk like a hammer, a strike aimed square at Giorno. He couldn't dodge left or right, and he doubted he had time to go over it either, so he had no choice.

"Muda!" Giorno kicked the tree trunk with all of his might, straining his gold experience to its limits. For a moment he feared it hadn't worked, but then he felt the tree start to shatter. it gave way to his blow and he resumed running. Single mindedly focused on his immediate goal, he didn't even considering retaliating. He could see the light of the clearing through the trees, somehow he had survived his reckless charge.

He leapt out of the shadows of the trees and into the battlefield; the clearing was littered with the 'corpses' of golems. He saw Saber, her back turned to him, she faced another Servant, Lancer. His plans were spinning in his head, it just needed a little push.

This was too perfect, he had lost his chance to strike out against Lancer's master before, but it showed itself to him again, fate must be on his side right now! He didn't care about Tokiomi's plan anymore; he just wanted to settle things against Lancer's master. That cowardly, dishonorable magus didn't deserve to have the Holy Grail, and he would make sure that he would get no chance to.

Both Lancer and Saber backed off from each other and faced him, their weapons raised in his direction. Giorno hoped the command seal on Lancer from the last fight had expired; he wouldn't want to accidently give that enraged beast an ally.

"A-Archer… why are you here, are you working with Caster?!" Saber's accusation, while technically correct, wasn't exactly right for this specific fight. Not that he would have admitted it even if it was true.

"Not today, Saber, I'm here because of _that…_" Giorno slowly walked towards them and pointed behind him, and with perfect timing Berserker violently broke through the trees. "This rabid dog is giving me a bit of trouble, would you care to help?"

Saber scowled at him, he wasn't sure why, maybe he'd offended her somehow? But she still let him walk past her, there were now three Servants at one end of the clearing, and one at the other. Even with this advantage in numbers it wouldn't be an easy fight; the immense presence of Berserker filled the clearing like a poisonous fog.

"I hope you've got a plan, Archer?" Lancer walked up to him, unlike Saber, he didn't seem to be offended by anything Giorno had said or done, but that might just be his outward appearance.

"Of course, I always have a plan." While it's true he always had some sort of plan, meeting up with these two _was_ the plan, he'd have to quickly come up with something now. "I'll take a bit of time… until then, can you hold him off?"

The Servant of the lance nodded and took his longspear in both hands, before dashing out in front of them. Berserker seemed focused on something else though, oh, he was locked onto Saber.

The raging servant tried to reach Saber, but Lancer's swift attacks forced him back. His spear cut through magic, and with each swing he chipped away at Berserker's Noble Phantasm, destroying the makeshift weapon underneath.

With less than half his weapon left, Berserker opted to throw it at the Servant in green, but he deftly sliced it in two before it reached him. Berserker leapt over him and charged at Giorno and Saber's position.

Giorno looked over at Saber, she was gritting her teeth and her sword was shaking in her hands. He recalled the fight at the docks, she had been injured by Lancer's other spear, a wound that would not heal.

He had not seen her Noble Phantasm's true form yet, but as the class known as the strongest it must be impressive, and legends of enchanted blades far outnumber other weapons. The basis of a plan was starting to form in his mind.

"Where do you think you're going? Your fight is with me!" Lancer's spear cut past berserker, who narrowly avoided the blow to his neck. Lancer had jumped over him and now landed firmly between the mad Servant and its target once more.

Berserker kicked a broken golem under his feet into the air and in a smooth motion ripped the constructs arm off. The black miasma of his Noble phantasm took hold and he now wielded it like a club.

Giorno flexed his hand and made a fist, he would make a gamble on this plan with a high probability of success, then he'd deal with Lancer's Master.

* * *

With Lancer at her side, the golem horde fell easily and with such an imminent loss looming over the attackers, the golems fled. It seems the controller of this army wasn't as dumb as to waste his forces on a fruitless battle.

These golems must be under the control of Caster, or at least created by them. Saber was no magus, but she had known magi in her time, and to create this many golems of such strength… this was a feat beyond even the average magus of her time, it was unlikely a master of this age could be behind it.

She let out a sigh, as much as she hated to admit it, that fight had been trying. Even Lancer, who had joined late into the battle, was panting heavily. Against a foe that outnumbers you, that doesn't tire, they couldn't hope for any more than this.

Saber wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, to be sweating this much… was she really this weak? No, the reason for her current lack of power was right in front of her, the Lancer with twin cursed spears. It was a long time coming, ever since her first engagement against him she knew they would meet on the battlefield once more, she had to settle this with him personally.

"You look like you're thinking the same thing as I am, Saber…" the green clad spearman raised his weapons towards her. The fatigue in his posture was gone, replaced with the burning vigor only a knight of his caliber could show. This man truly enjoyed to fight against her, so he must have been just as unsatisfied as her when their duel was interrupted. "Come then, shall we resume our previous engagement?"

"But of course, a Knight like myself could not think of any other outcome. Let us finish this, Lancer!" Her face was stern, but her eyes held a fire within them. This was everything, the epitome of the Holy Grail War to her, an honorable battle between legends.

But not a single blow was exchanged between them, as a repeat of the first night's farce played out before them. She hoped with all of her heart that Rider didn't show up as well, knowing him he would do so without hesitation.

It was so frustrating, she finally saw a chance to redeem her misstep from the start of the war, and yet this enigma of a Servant had to show up _again_. Just who was this Servant? She couldn't recognize his name, face, or dress. And he used his powers so brazenly, but it revealed nothing about his legend, except that using the term 'Archer' to describe him was an unbelievable stretch. Though, maybe his true Noble Phantasm was a ranged attack, and he was holding it back?

Nothing about him added up, and she couldn't understand why lancer had so easily agreed to help him against Berserker. That is, until she recalled the events of the first night. She quickly realized that an honorable knight like Diarmuid would be dissatisfied with how his Master interfered when he went to archer's aid the first time, and he was making up for that as well.

He was a fine knight, had they lived in the same country at the same time, she would have surely wanted him for her own army. His form was flawless, he easily held back the raging Berserker like it was nothing, though his movements had begun to slow.

"Archer, your plan ready yet?" Lancer gasped between strikes, he was obviously pushing himself to his limits. "I wish I could, but I don't think I can hold him back much longer!"

She gripped her sword as tight as she could, but her damaged arm made it excruciating. It was no good, she couldn't use her Noble Phantasm like this, so how could she defeat this enemy in front of her?

"I see your arm is still giving you trouble, Saber…" she felt the bizarre Servant approach her from behind, a chill ran through her body at his words, his emotionless voice seemed more threatening than any rage filled screams from Berserker. "That was lancer's doing, correct?'

She tensed up, what was he planning? His cold, methodical words were completely devoid of compassion or honor. He was a Servant she could never get along with, a man who would do whatever it took to bring victory for himself, that was all she could think at the time.

The golden haired Servant in a purple suit ran out past her, sidestepping around Lancer. His body began to glow with the strange energy of his Noble Phantasm, but she couldn't feel any mana build-up within him.

The Berserker slammed its current makeshift weapon down on the thin man, but he didn't dodge, instead he _grabbed_ the swing in mid arc. With a powerful kick, he sent the mad Servant flying, what absurd strength from such a small body!

"We have to act quickly, he won't be down for long," he returned to Lancer and her side, his expression was the same as ever, but she still felt something was off. She would never work with him willingly; she couldn't trust his man at all. "But don't worry; I know how to defeat him."

"Oh, all you've done against Berserker so far is to lose severely, and you think you can win now? What a joke, I doubt you could even really beat assassin, it must have been a fluke." She'd had enough of his attitude; he was nothing but talk without the power or skill to back it up.

"Who said _I_ would defeat him?" He walked towards Lancer calmly, not a single bit of hostility in his movements. "You misunderstand, Saber. It is not I who has the power to defeat him, but you."

"Don't be ridiculous, with this injury, I can't even use my n-"

"You can't use your Noble Phantasm? I had my suspicions, but that confirms it." He paused and glanced back towards the fallen Berserker. "We're out of time, so tell me, can your Noble Phantasm defeat that wild beast?"

Her words caught in her throat, she didn't want to say anything to him without knowing what he was planning. But, he was right, their only chance right now was the power of her Noble Phantasm.

"It can," she finally managed to choke out those two words, but why was she shaking so much? It had to be fatigue, there was no way she was _afraid_ of him, was there?

Without telegraphing his actions at all, the strange Archer's arm shot up and grabbed lancer's longspear, forcing the point into the ground. The shocked Servant of the Lance, understanding his intentions, quickly brought out his second spear in his free hand.

But Giorno Giovanna was faster, and a golden clad fist struck lancer in the chin, knocking him down with a straight uppercut. The power of Gold Experience flowed into his mind, overloading it and stunning the Servant.

"W-what are you doing, Archer?!" She raised her sword and readied to dash forward, gathering up enough mana for a burst of speed. Giorno stamped his foot against the short spear on the ground and launched it into the air, deftly catching it in his open hands.

An immense amount of energy flowed into his arms, and he did something unthinkable. The shortspear _broke_, snapped in half. He… he could overpower even a Noble Phantasm? She knew it had truly broken, as her hand immediately began to mend.

He started to walk towards her, was he going to attack her as well? No, he had something else in mind. She saw clearly the hostility in his eyes, he only saw her an enemy, a tool to be used and discarded, but she couldn't move. She was frozen in place, why? Why couldn't she move?

"I'm leaving this up to you, Saber," he put his hand on her shoulder, the shoulder of her wounded arm. An intense pain tore through her arm at that moment, so he did intend to fight her! But by the time the pain subsided, he was gone.

And her arm… was healed? It was healed so masterfully, like it had never been damaged in the first place was he sure he wasn't Caster? Her speculation was cut short however, as she heard the movements of Berserker behind her, she turned to face the mysterious madman.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅！"

She would end this in one strike, mana welled up in her body as she prepared to unleash her trump card, her Noble Phantasm. The beast charged at her, but she was ready, all she had to do was speak its name.

The most legendary sword across the world, undeniably one of the most well known legends, just hearing the name is enough to reveal exactly which Heroic Spirit Saber was.

"Ex-"

Berserker roared again, he was almost upon her, but it was fine, at this range, there was no way he could dodge. An anti-fortress class noble phantasm, using it against one target almost seemed like overkill, almost.

"-Calibur!"

A surge of golden energy, her sword's true form was unleashed. A wave of destruction crashed through the forest, cutting a deep scar across the land. Its power was nearly unrivaled, an unsurpassable legend, not even Berserker could stand against it's strength.

The black Servant was bathed in golden light, and within seconds was annihilated. And so the madman was defeated, no-one save his master ever learning his true name, a tragic ending for someone once considered a hero.

Saber slumped to her knees, she was no longer able to stand, panting heavily, she collapsed against the cold forest ground.

* * *

The ground shook at the force of the blast, was that really Saber's Noble Phantasm? The intense heat and energy coming from it was like nothing he could have imagined. Saber was in a different category entirely compared to the rest of the competition, Giorno was somewhat glad that hadn't been aimed at him.

But now, he had a clear mission, and it wasn't the mission Tokiomi had given him. He had to find Lancer's master, and remove him from this war. Kirei Kotomine's actions were none of his concern; he couldn't care less about what that priest was doing.

Using a swarm of insects he created with his Gold Experience, he searched for the elusive master, and soon found him. In the mansion… no, the castle in the center of the forest, a battle between magi was happening. The first he saw was a man he recognized from Tokiomi's Intel on the other masters, a freelance magus hired by the Einzberns, the infamous 'Magus Killer' Kiritsugu Emiya.

Which means this other Magus, is most likely who he was looking for. Giorno ran at full sprint towards the fight, he wouldn't give anyone else the chance to take this victory from him. He would deny this coward's existence with his own two hands, it was all he wanted at the moment.

Giorno crept silently through the wrecked halls of the castle, Lancer's Master was using a strange construct of liquid metal, possibly mercury, to fight. Its form almost reminded him of a Stand, but no such thing existed in this world outside of his own. He rounded a corner and found himself face to face with his target, who froze the instant he saw Giorno.

Good, at least he's not stupid enough to think he could fight a Servant on his own. Giorno slowly paced towards him, golden energy wrapping his fists.

"Well now, I think it's time I gave you that lesson in 'terror' I promised you before, don't you think?" though based on his expression, Giorno could see he understood it all too well already.

The magus's strange construct, his Mystic Code, reacted almost automatically and struck out at Giorno, liquid metal moved like tentacles towards him and turned into blades. With a backhanded strike, Giorno splattered the metal across the wall, hitting it too fast for it's automatic reactions to avoid the attack.

"You don't think you can beat me with such a weak resolve, do you? Even in person you fight by proxy, I'm glad my first impression of you was right." Giorno posed one hand on his hip and the other pointed at his opponent. "Someone like you could never win the Holy Grail, but your arrogance prevented you from seeing that."

"Y-You think you've beaten me already? Is that not arrogance as well, Archer?" His high and mighty attitude was crumbling, he couldn't keep his voice from wavering but yet he tried to act tough.

"It is arrogance, but unlike yours, mine is completely _justified_ by my strength." Giorno was right on top of him now; he grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. With a flick of his wrist, the magus crashed into the wall behind him. The difference in power was obvious; no human could stand up against a servant in a serious fight.

Giorno raised his fist, this would end it, his immediate goal would be complete. He was right, this man did not deserve to be in this war, just like _that man_ did not deserve to be the boss. He would defeat him and become yet another step closer to his dream, he could feel it in his grasp already.

"L-Lancer, by the command seal, I order you to defend me this instant!" As Giorno swung his fist down, a desperate cry from the magus changed everything. A flash of light blinded him momentarily and when the room refocused, The Servant in green had appeared in-between them.

Giorno leapt back, but Lancer's superior reach was enough. The spear the cuts through magic easily penetrated through his clothing, which couldn't even really be called armor, and impaled him against the castle wall.

"Archer…" The spearman's body was shaking, his face twisted as he glared at him. "First you disrupt my duel with Saber, then you have the _gall_ to blindside your own ally in order to win against a mutual foe. Those actions I could understand, maybe even forgive..."

Lancer twisted the spear in Giorno's abdomen, but any pain it caused didn't show on his face. Giorno grabbed the spear and attempted to transform it with his Stand, but it's form wouldn't change, was it resisting his power?

"But to come here and attack _my Master_ while he was alone. Do you have no sense of honor, no nobility?!" Lancer's rage was seething, he looked at Giorno with utter contempt, a far cry from how he acted around him before. "This is _unforgivable_, Archer! My duel with Saber can wait, I won't be able to rest until I've defeated you first!"

Lancer wrenched the spear out of Giorno's body, he fell to his knees, blood spilling onto the stone floor. He placed a hand on his wound and with a flash of gold stood back up, seemingly unharmed. The two Servants stood on opposite sides of the hall, neither one willing to make the first move.

The Servant Lancer, Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, his body trembling with rage, he tightened his grip on his remaining spear as he stared down his enemy. He wanted nothing more than to see Giorno fall to his cursed spear, but he knew it wouldn't be as easy as that.

And Giorno Giovanna, the unlikely servant Archer, who remained eerily relaxed even in this situation, who remained unarmed save for his stand's abilities, he didn't even bother to raise his fists.

"Are you mocking me, Archer?!" lancer's rage continued to consume him, he was obviously not thinking clearly any more, unlike Giorno. Giorno was still thinking, still planning, how could he make up for his lack of range against him? He had his Gold Experience, but he suspected that his creations would be cut through easily by Lancer's cursed spear.

But still, he had to press forward, he would win no matter what. Giorno charged towards him, the power of his Standing building up inside of him. Likewise, Lancer dashed at him, pulling his spear back in anticipation of a strike.

And so, the clash between Archer and Lancer began.


	6. Chapter 5: Vindication

Metal cut against the stone walls and floor, showering the hallway in a radiant explosion of sparks. Lancer moved like a storm, a righteous hurricane bearing down on his opponent. His spear danced through the room, not leaving any openings in his defense nor letting up on his constant onslaught.

He might not be the most powerful Servant in the war, but his skill was undeniable. Giorno on the other hand, held an incredible amount of power within him, but his raw combat skills were far below the man before him.

It was all he could do to dodge fatal blows, his body began to accumulate superficial damage, and the flurry of thrusts by Lancer's spear shredded Giorno's clothing apart.

If he could just get closer, he would be able to end it, but lancer's assault wouldn't let up. He was being forced back, if he wasn't careful he might be cornered, then he wasn't sure if he could escape the enraged servant any longer.

Giorno leapt back and tore one of the butterfly broaches off of his chest; he transformed it and threw the resulting life at Lancer. A piranha shot across the hall, it's mouth baring its sharp razor teeth. Lancer's spear slashed cleanly through it, and yet, he suffered no backlash. Giorno's stand abilities were nullified by the cursed red spear, the two halves of his broach fell to the ground, no longer in the form he had given it.

Lancer rushed in faster than before and twisted his body to the side, spinning around and connecting the shaft of his spear against Giorno's body. He felt his ribs crack, but that wasn't the end, Lancer threw all of his strength behind the swing and smashed him against the stone wall.

Before he had time to recover and heal himself with his Gold Experience, Lancer jumped and sent a powerful kick into his chest, forcing the breath out of his body and sending him crashing through the stone wall. What strength! Were his emotions really increasing his abilities this much?

A blur of red shot through the air and into his stomach, he was pinned to the ground, still half covered in the rubble from the wall. Defeated... Lancer had utterly defeated him in mere moments. How ridiculous, where had he been hiding this reserve of strength?

"Do you see now, Archer? This is the difference between us!" Lancer looked down at him, his eyes still burning with rage. He stepped on Giorno's prone form, putting his full weight into it. "Someone like you, with no honor, could not possibly stand up against a true hero!"

Giorno's cold eyes locked onto Lancer's, but he didn't say anything, he just continued to stare at him. He almost wanted to laugh, laugh at how pathetic he had become. Giorno knew all along, he didn't have the ability to stand among Heroic Spirits, the gap between them was far too high.

But did that matter? No, it didn't, it never had. All throughout his past life, he had faced down foes bigger than he was. Smarter, stronger, it didn't matter, Giorno defeated them all. Yes, that was the difference between them, how foolish he was for trying to fight on their level. He had to win this war, no matter the cost.

"Honor… has nothing to do with it!" Giorno's body glowed gold, and from beneath him shot up a forest of bamboo, all aimed at Lancer. The servant leapt back, pulling his spear from Giorno's body. Giorno wasted no time in repairing his wound, then easily leapt back to his feet. "Honor is worthless in war, Lancer, all that matters is your own 'resolve', and I'll show you the power of mine!"

The rising forest of bamboo chased Lancer as if it had a mind of it's own, his spear cut through it like butter, but the broken shoots continued to regrow. And then it started, the bamboo shifted and changed, and a swarm of animals rushed out from within the forest.

Giorno could freely manipulate his life, which included changing its shape even after he had stopped touching it, so long as his Stand's power remained within it. Snakes bit at Lancer's feet, birds dove against his head, and insects swarmed him from all sides.

He must have realized his fight was hopeless then, as the Servant launched into a desperate lunge at Giorno, his spear poised to take his head. Giorno did not try to dodge or block it, for if he did Lancer's course might change, and he needed him to stay true.

"Looks like this is the end of your so called resolve, Archer!" he screamed, his eyes bloodshot with rage.

Giorno turned away from him, Lancer's spear was inches from his head, but it never found its target. Lancer coughed up blood, his eyes turning from anger to shock, what had just happened? He looked down, and saw his body had been pierced; numerous pieces of bamboo impaled him from all sides.

Normally, something like this couldn't harm a Servant, but his created life was part of his Stand, and as his Stand acted as his Noble Phantasm, so it possessed the ability to harm Heroic Spirits.

"The Grail made the wrong choice, I think that 'Berserker' fits you much better," Giorno turned around but did not face him, angling himself just enough that he could see the defeated Lancer from the corner of his eye. His face was as unfeeling as always, not a single shred of emotion seeped through his steel countenance. "To win and grasp my dream with any means necessary; that is my 'resolve.' Your knight's honor would only hold me back!"

"A-Archer… You bastard, I won't forgive you for this, not ever!"

Giorno didn't respond, he just turned and walked away from the dying servant. He raised his hand up and clenched his fist, and with that action, even more stalks of bamboo rose and impaled the Servant further.

Giorno climbed back into the castle through the destroyed wall, stepping over the stone rubble without looking back. He could feel lancer's life fading, and his master would know as soon as he died, Giorno would have to move quickly if he wanted to catch him before he fled.

Suddenly an intense pain shot through Giorno's chest as he walked down the hall, he looked down and found a red spear protruding out of his body. Coughing, he fell to one knee, his gaze darting behind him.

Lancer, bloody and near death, refused to give up, spears of bamboo impaled him and blood drenched the ground below his feet, but he continued to advance. He pulled his spear back and thrust it at Giorno's neck, missing by inches, no longer able to aim properly.

Giorno's heart had definitely been pierced, but even a wound like that was nothing against his Gold Experience. Darkness flashed across his vision as his body died, but he still had enough energy left. He fell to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust from the destroyed stone wall, but this was all a part of his plan.

"I don't care if I die here, but I'll definitely, _definitely_ take you with me!" lancer roared as he limped over to the fallen form of Giorno and raised his spear, his dying arms shook as he aimed his next strike towards his head. He swung, a crimson arc of death aimed for the helpless servant's head, this strike wouldn't miss like the last.

But his spear dug into cold stone, and Giorno was nowhere to be seen, had he teleported with the aid of a command seal?! Lancer's eyes shot across the room, but it was no use, Giorno was gone from his sight.

"Muda muda," A voice from behind him spoke up; his cold tone which carried no emotion was like an unnerving warning to his fading senses. In a situation like this, such a lack of palpable malice was far more ominous than a feeling of bloodlust. "You almost had me there, if I had been a moment slower in transforming that rubble into a new heart, I would have actually died."

Giorno rushed out before Lancer, his stony glare cutting through the last of the spearman's resolve. A hail of fists rained down on Lancer, each punch followed by a shout of "Muda!" from the unusual Servant. Giorno's flurry of blows easily exceeded one hundred hits as he drove lancer against the castle wall, but his barrage wouldn't let up that easily.

Lancer slumped to the floor, his back half against the wall. He could no longer feel his body and his limbs wouldn't respond to his commands, he had lost, a complete defeat at the hands of that man.

"Your resolve is strong, Diarmuid, stronger than I originally anticipated." Giorno called him by his true name for the first time, the only time. He swept his hair back with his hand, pushing his unnaturally golden locks out of his eyes. "But I can't allow myself to be beaten that easily, not until I've grasped victory with these hands!"

Giorno clenched his fist, the deep crimson blood of the Heroic Spirit Lancer dripped off of his knuckles, but by the time the drop hit the floor he was already gone. Lancer died, and with him all hope for his Master's survival had vanished.

Giorno stumbled and fell against the wall, even with his Stand's ability to heal he was exhausted, and probably running a low on blood. But he had a job to finish, his body grew more sluggish by the second as he forced himself down the long hallway, but Lancer could still fight after taking an even more extreme beating, and he wouldn't allow himself to lose in endurance.

His ponytail had come undone, and his bangs which normally formed three curls above his forehead now dangled in front of his face, matted down with blood and sweat. His suit was in tatters, and what remained stuck to his skin with blood. It was a testament to his Stand's power that he could still move, let alone walk.

After leaving the castle and entering the woods, Giorno was quite amazed at just how far Lancer's Master had had managed to flee in such a short time, he couldn't even see him within the dark forest anymore. He leaned against a tree and gritted his teeth, and with considerable strain forced his Stand to work, even though he was at his limits.

Pain wracked his body as golden light flowed from his hand, this was probably the last time he could use his Stand without rest, so he'd better make it count.

From his last remaining broach, a butterfly sprung to life and flew into the forest. Moments later he had found him, Lancer's master was running through the trees at an incredibly reckless pace.

Giorno pushed off the tree, his bones creaked and his muscles burned with each step, but he forced himself into a sprint. His vision blurred as he ran, and all he could hear was his heart beating loudly in his ears. But soon he was able to reach his target, he practically fell over in exhaustion as he stopped, but he remained standing.

"We're not done here, why such a rush?" Giorno's voiced strained to sound as it always did, cold and emotionless. He couldn't show any weakness, he wouldn't show any, he had to be an iron wall that none could surpass. That was what it meant to be the Boss to him, and it was how he conquered his enemies in his world.

Giorno still had enough strength to defeat a human opponent, it wouldn't even be able to be called a fight, and he would most likely die in one blow. Giorno raised his hand, he took no pleasure in killing this man, but his ideals wouldn't stand for his continued existence.

The blonde magi's head slid cleanly off his neck, Giorno's hand had swiped across like a knife, not even allowing the man to scream in terror let alone respond to the servant's question. The man's body slumped over and stained the forest floor crimson, and it was done. Giorno flicked his wrist and scattered the blood on his hand through the air, and then he disappeared.

He was perfectly fine, he had just returned to spiritual form in order to recover, his wound should heal faster in this state and when he reformed his damaged clothing would be recreated out of mana.

Things hadn't gone exactly as he expected, his plans weren't infallible, but he still managed to come out on top. He had won, he had _survived, _and that was all that mattered. And now his victory was closer, two more servants eliminated, including some of the bigger threats against him personally.

But for now, he just wanted to get some rest.

* * *

He'd made a fool out of her, that damn flamboyant Archer! Used her to beat his enemy, then he fled. He was selfish, and worse, he fought with no honor. A man who could strike his own ally without warning isn't worthy of the Holy Grail, no, he isn't worthy of being called a Heroic Spirit!

And when she had come to, Lancer was dead, had he been that man's target all along? No, he would have killed Lancer at the time he broke his spear if Lancer himself was the target. The only reasonable answer is that Archer wanted to kill Lancer's master, and Lancer died defending him after she had lost consciousness.

Because from what she heard from Irisviel, he hadn't even attempted to attack her or her master Kiritsugu, even though he had a perfect opening to do so. He was incredibly strange, but more importantly, he was dangerous. There was no way to know what he would do next; he was a liability in the war, one she had to do something about.

She strode through the ruined halls of the Einzbern castle, wearing her modern suit that made her look more masculine than she really was, it was fitting attire for a knight like herself. She pushed open the heavy do to one of the inner rooms, one of the few spared from the destruction that befell their base.

She spotted Irisviel resting on an ornate chair, and walked over to her, stopping right behind her. Irisviel's body was weak, so today's crisis probably took a lot out of her, should she really be bringing this up now? No, she had to, the longer they wait the more dangerous things would become.

"Irisviel, may I have a word with you?" Saber spoke with calm nobility befitting her status, the ideal knight, she would remain composed even when she was troubled. She had to be strong willed, as a King has to be strong for their people or the kingdom will crumble.

Irisviel turned to face her, putting on a false smile that didn't do well to hide her fatigue. But she too had a job to do, and it was evident that they were quite similar in this regard. Neither one of them willing show weakness, even if they suffered.

That Archer does the same thing, but he's so skilled at his ruse that you could say he's even convinced himself he has no weaknesses. His outlook was frankly terrifying to Saber; he could barely be considered human in mentality.

"Ah, Saber…" Irisviel hesitated, a pained expression flashed across her face, but it quickly returned to normal. She forced herself to stand up; though it was obvious her body was shaking. "Are you feeling better now? Kiritsugu and I were quite concerned when we found you laying there in the forest…"

"There's no need for you to worry about me, you should be concerned more with yourself, have you gotten any sleep lately?" Saber put her hand on the white haired woman's shoulder, she could feel the Einzbern's body tense up at the action, what would cause her to do that?

"Oh… you noticed? And here I thought I was hiding it pretty well," her smile beamed up towards Saber, but it was still just as hollow. "You're right, I haven't been resting properly for the last few days, my dreams keep waking me up."

"I don't know much about dreams, but if something is worrying you, you can talk to me about it."

"You're very kind, Saber, but for now I think I'll just try and get some rest." She turned to leave before freezing at the doorway and glancing back. "Oh, there was something you needed to talk about, right?"

"Do not concern yourself with it, we can discuss it in the morning," Saber shook her head, her eyes closed, she opened them and give a genuine smile to Irisviel, hoping her soft expression could at least be some comfort to her. "Besides, I don't really feel like discussing matters of war right now, it has been a long day."

After Irisviel left, Saber clenched her fist, the same hand he had healed. She couldn't wait, if she defeated him before dawn and returned, none would be the wiser. He wasn't strong enough to defeat another Servant in a straight up fight, he must have used some form of underhanded tactic against Lancer, just like with Berserker. She would show him what a true heroic spirit was like!

But as soon as she made to leave the castle, a wave of dizziness swept over her, her mana was running low. At all the times for her body to give out, why did it have to be now? She could recover with a good night's sleep, but it was still frustrating. Reluctantly, Saber abandoned her plan, she would have to defeat Archer another day. She would recover her power, and then she would pay him back for the humiliation he had brought upon her!

* * *

The day after the battle with Berserker and Lancer, Giorno was still feeling the effects. Even with a Servant's recovery, it seems like being pushed that close to death multiple times was more than he could handle. As a heroic spirit who can only fight effectively with his overwhelming Noble Phantasms, it was also likely a major drain on Tokiomi to maintain him, though the Magus would be far too proud to admit it.

But Giorno knew; if he continued to fight at this pace, his master might not make it to end of the war, and he hadn't even used his requiem since his demonstration. He can't afford to be so reckless, but thankfully there are very few enemies remaining.

Giorno took human form before the door to Tokiomi's study, just as a certain priest was leaving from it. Although his face was as stoic as Giorno's, he felt like it was more smug than it was usually.

"Done with your scolding, Kotomine?" Giorno didn't bother to hide the disdain in his voice; he never trusted the priest and this last event hadn't helped the matter.

"Why should I be scolded, Archer?" The man's cold tone would be enough to strike fear in a lesser man, but Giorno was unfazed. "I explained to our Master that an opportunity to strike against the Einzberns had come up rather unexpectedly, by the time I reported it we'd have missed it. I took the only sensible action in a war, I'm sure he can see that."

The two men stared at each other, their piercing gazes clashed; neither man seemed to want to break the stalemate. Reluctantly, Giorno was the first to do so, he walked past Kotomine and, without turning back, finally responded.

"For now, maybe… but don't think I've dropped my guard." After uttering these words, Giorno stepped inside his master's study and shut the door hard enough to get the point across, but not enough to be considered a slam.

Giorno surveyed the room as he always did, his battle sense never truly switching off, even if this room was always the same, the moment he assumed it would be and forgot to check would likely be his last. But of course, nothing stood out from the last time he had been here.

"Ah, there you are," Tokiomi, spotting Giorno's entrance, stood up from his desk and walked over to him. "Excellent work, defeating Berserker _and_ Lancer, neither was a foe to be taken lightly, and yet you handled it superbly!"

"Lancer sure, but I can't take credit for the Rabid Dog, Saber finished that one off," Giorno gracefully fell into a large satin chair, crossing his legs and propping up his head with his hand. It was an arrogant pose, one that only a 'king' would take, yet he was no king. "Lancer's master was slain at my hand however, and from what I saw of him, Berserker's won't be a threat anymore."

"Indeed, this war feels like it's barely started, and yet we're nearing the closing act already!" Tokiomi closed his fist around empty air and tightened it. "Soon, my wish, my family's wish will be in my grasp. The Tohsaka's will be one of the most renowned bloodlines of Magi forevermore, and I couldn't have done it without you, I am grateful."

As if Giorno cared about the ranking of mages, it all seemed so petty. What did it matter if people know you were the strongest, shouldn't being the strongest be enough? Giorno did not become the Boss for fame, but because it was something he wanted, in a way Tokiomi does not even have a wish, but rather parrots the wishes of his ancestors.

"Don't get overconfident yet Master, the war isn't won yet," Giorno knew how easily a fight you thought you were winning could turn around; it was too early to call it. "There are still three more Servants remaining. I Saw Saber's power myself; she isn't one to take lightly, especially while I don't know my current limits, and Rider's abilities remain a mystery."

"Three, surely you're not referring to Caster? I can understand your concerns, but Kotomine remains on our side." Giorno wasn't so sure about that, but even if he was, that didn't change anything.

"Caster is not _Kotomine_, Master, do you think a magus like yourself would step aside and let you claim the grail?"

"You suspect Caster will betray us and try to win the war himself? While it's not a possibly I can discount, but even so, Kirei still possess his command spells, so we can rest easy."

Giorno could tell he wasn't getting through to his master, and even though he wanted to, telling him he suspects his apprentice of betrayal right now would only make things worse. Giorno let out a long breath, veering quite close to an actual sigh, and stood up.

"I understand, but I'll be keeping an eye on him, just to be safe. I don't trust a magus who would seclude himself and do nothing but craft soldiers, who knows what he's capable of?"

His master nodded, it seems he managed to get through his overconfidence, if only a little. Giorno returned to spiritual form and continued to rest; hopefully his fatigue would subside soon.

Saber would probably come for him, he had interrupted her duel with Lancer, used her as a pawn in his own plan. If she's anything like Lancer, her knight's honor won't let her forgive him, what a pain. Honor is worthless to Giorno, but at least he can use it to predict her actions.

But Rider, he was a tough one. Giorno didn't know much about him, just that he was extremely loud and his body was built like a Stand. He didn't have anything he could use against him, and fighting an opponent when he didn't know the enemies powers was always a risky prospect.

He'll have to come up with a counter measure eventually, but right now Saber is more pressing. Can his Requiem defeat her Noble Phantasm? In his world it would be a foregone conclusion, but his power has changed, will it still work on something that _overwhelming?_

* * *

He ran through the night, each footstep hitting the ground with an unnatural lack of sound. He was a deadly assassin, a heretic hunter for the church, he was Kirei Kotomine, a Master in this farce of a war. He had to move quickly now, or he would miss the chance.

Lancer, and to a lesser extent, his own Master had foiled his plans. Unable to reach the man known as the Magus Killer, Kiritsugu Emiya, he was forced to retreat. He would have been perfectly fine sacrificing his entire stockpile of golems for that one shot at his goal, but Caster was not so willing to waste them.

But even had he continued the attack, Lancer's involvement lowered his chances significantly, so he had regrettably fallen back. And still, his Servant's power was greatly diminished by the battle, and he would need time and resources to rebuild. If he could finish his ultimate creation, his Noble Phantasm, he could close the gap once more…

This is why Kirei stalked the nights this time; he had to get his forces back in fighting shape if he wanted to reach his current goals. It was becoming more evident by the day that Caster needed something beyond his normal supplies to complete his magnum opus, something Tokiomi couldn't acquire through regular channels.

A core material that could produce an incredibly large quantity and quality of mana, in other words, the magic circuits of a high class magus. There were few who could really be considered powerful enough to meet this requirement in the modern age, and finding one in such short notice wouldn't be easy… that is, if this wasn't the Holy Grail War.

Sola-Ui Nuada-Re Sophia-Ri, the fiancé of recently deceased Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald, Master of the Servant lancer. Lancer and Kayneth were slain at the hands of Archer, he'd have to thank him later, as his current plan wouldn't be able to succeed without his actions. With Master and Servant defeated, she was vulnerable for the short period before she managed to leave the city.

For a man who hunted heretical mages and phantasmal beasts, defeating one woman who didn't even possess her family's magic crest was trivial, mere child's play for his skills. Adrenaline pumped through Kirei's body as he prepared for the fight. He had located her current hiding place well enough, an abandoned construction project in the new part of the city, surveying the area, he spotted a woman doing her best to move unseen, it wasn't enough.

Without a word, Kirei drew his black keys from within his priest's frock, really his battle attire, and poured his mana into the handles. The magically created blades extended instantly, forming three incredibly long throwing daggers. He threw the first, not to kill but to immobilize, striking the ground behind the red haired woman and piercing her shadow.

She understood right away, her body froze, and she looked over her shoulder as Kirei dropped down from his perch. The body refuses to separate from the shadow, so pinning one stops the other, she was trapped. But just to be safe, he hurled two more keys into her body, one destroying her left shoulder, and the other imbedding itself in her right thigh.

Kirei could feel the air shift, and he dove to the right as a burst of mana flew towards him, To still be capable of counter attacking in this state, she was more impressive than he expected, but it wouldn't be enough to save her. The Priest drew more keys, the long blades scraped along the concrete flooring of the unfinished building, lighting a trail of orange sparks behind him as he rushed in.

In a flash, he was in front of her. Unwavering she started to prepare another spell, raising her undamaged arm. Kiei moved faster than she could see, his black key transforming from a throwing weapon into a close quarters blade. A silver arc turned crimson as he slashed towards the sky, severing her arm at the elbow.

Her eyes widened in shock, but she didn't cry out in pain, was she trying to act tough? He wrapped his fingers around her neck, and squeezed, through her gasps for breath he almost thought he heard her beg for her life. That changed nothing however, and he continued to choke the life out of her. Her eyes twitched in their sockets, just another one of the many convulsions running wild in her body right now.

Something broke inside of Kirei Kotomine, before he knew what was happening to him, a smile had crossed his face. He was… smiling? _That wasn't possible, _what was going on? Sola-Ui's body ceased it's futile struggle and fell limp in his hold, and he felt _good. _Nothing had brought him joy, not his marriage, not the birth of his daughter, but _this?_

The act of taking someone's life, not for any assignment or self preservation, but solely for himself filled his body with a sensation he had never once experienced. It was, enlightening to say the least, no, it was _intoxicating_. But he didn't want to admit it, to admit that this was the answer he was looking for, no matter how broken he was, he was still a man of god.

He had to refocus; he pushed this feeling out of his mind and returned to his mission. Contacting Caster, he had a golem head to his location in order to recover her body; hopefully she would do well as a core. Still unable to accept his new answer, Kirei left before the golem arrived, he needed some time alone.

* * *

It was early morning, and Tokiomi had woken up feeling quite refreshed compared to the previous nights since this grand ritual began. His servant had taken some time to adjust, but now he seemed to easily be able to handle the remainder of the war, it was only a matter of time before the grail was in his hands.

He dressed in his usual suit and after fixing his collar, headed towards his study. As he opened the door he was somewhat surprised to see his Servant waiting for him, he didn't normally appear without being summoned first.

The Heroic Spirit sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair like it was his own. Tokiomi didn't wish to anger his Servant and hurt their working relationship, so he would ignore this action for now. He was also more interested in what the Servant held in his hands, he was examining an… arrow? It certainly looked like an arrow from here, though it was exceedingly old and worn, its head was even made of stone.

Its age made it seem like it could have easily been a summoning catalyst for a Heroic Spirit, though it was not the one he prepared, nor did he ever recall purchasing it. That left only one logical answer to where his Servant had gotten it from, it would do well to explain how he was summoned as _Archer. _The Magus sat down on the opposite side of the desk, his eyes fixated on the arrow.

A third noble phantasm, it had to be, nothing else made sense. What powers could it posses? The two he had already witnessed were nearly divine in power, and being an arrow implies that this was Archer 'true' noble phantasm, but why did he hide it from him until now?

"Archer… is that?" Unable to wait any longer, he came out and asked, hoping he wasn't being too forward with him.

"It is exactly as you suspect, Tokiomi," the golden haired Servant rolled the arrow between his fingers, then looked up towards his Master. "One of my Noble Phantasms, it seems. I remembered this arrow in my dreams, and when I awoke I found it before me, seems I unconsciously brought it forth."

"You have just that arrow? No bow to go along with it?" Tokiomi was confused, but the strangeness of this Servant would make something like this quite normal in comparison.

"There was once a bow, but I never possessed it myself. Truth be told, I never held this entire arrow either, but only the arrowhead of it. I'm not sure then why I can summon the entire thing, perhaps I could bring out the bow if I tried…"

"In any case, it must be powerful indeed to allow you to be summoned as Archer, when your main abilities are more inclined towards Caster." Tokiomi had to know, he had come this far and he wouldn't back down; he had to know what it did, what powers it held.

"I know that look on your face, Tokiomi," Neither Giorno's face or voice showed any emotion, but Tokiomi imagined him to be smiling, maybe he was getting comfortable enough around him to see though his statuesque façade. "I'll tell you right now, this arrow is no 'Weapon,' but is rather more of a 'Tool,' it can't directly win the war, but indirectly it already has."

"I don't understand, if you just discovered it today, how has it won us anything?"

Giorno stood up and placed the arrow down on the desk, he walked over to the window, facing away from Tokiomi, silence filled the room, and Tokiomi was unable to say anything as he waited for a response. Finally, he turned around, his expression as cold as ever.

"This arrow… it gave me my Requiem."

This arrow, this unassuming arrow, held such a great power within it? And yet, he said this power couldn't win the war? If you used it to great more powers like his to others, you could achieve anything!

"I know what you're thinking, that won't work," Giorno picked up the arrow from the desk, and in a flash, it disappeared into ether. "The powers it creates are… unreliable. And those with the will to control a 'Stand' are few and far between."

Tokiomi didn't let his disappointment show on his face, and merely nodded to his Servant.

"I take it this wasn't all you wanted to discuss, so, what brings you to me this early?" as he spoke, Giorno returned to his seat behind the desk, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his knee.

"I have a plan to defeat the remaining Servants."

And so ambitious Master and Servant began to plot their victory; a conversation that had the potential to stretch long into the afternoon.

* * *

Giorno Giovanna was not particularly affected by the cold, but even he had to admit that the chill in the air was more noticeable than normal. The lack of any sunlight through the thick canopy of dark clouds certainly didn't help either, giving an ominous atmosphere to where he was standing.

An abandoned construction site, the half finished building open enough to maneuver in, but with only a few points of entry. An ambush would be defeated before it even began here, it was an ideal location. He flexed his hand and a few times, before balling it into a fist, his cold sharp eyes flashed across the most obvious hole in his defenses, but there was still nothing there.

And he'd really expected to see a swordswoman in blue, had his invitation not been clear enough? He'd moved alone, from Tokiomi's company to this place, making sure to be spotted as much as possible. It might be that the fight the other day had been a bigger hindrance on the Einzbern than he thought, enough so that they couldn't even mobilize an attack. Or maybe she's scared, not confident in her ability to defeat him one on one?

He wouldn't get a chance to learn how that would have made him feel, for he sensed a new presence approach him. However, it wasn't his invited guest, but rather a priest he'd rather never have seen again.

"Shouldn't you be at the church, Kotomine?" Giorno crossed his arms and intentionally set his gaze away from the man. He didn't understand Tokiomi's persistence on him as an ally, he hadn't done anything extremely useful to them, and in fact his last actions could be seen as a setback.

"Caster required a… rare component for his Noble Phantasm's construction; I was on my way back from retrieving it." The priest, seemingly indifferent to Giorno's cold reception, walked over to him. Outwardly they carried the same expression, emotionless and cold to everything, but there was a difference. Giorno's face was a mask, a reflection of his resolve, but when he looked at Kotomine Kirei's eyes… he saw nothing reflected in them. "You and I both know we won't need it, not with your _abilities_, but Tokiomi has expressed an interest as a fellow magus."

"It will also replenish your fighting strength, which you squandered in a pointless battle," Giorno turned his head towards him, his piercing glare that unnerved most who looked upon him had no effect on the man before him. "And if you get too weak, you won't be able to stab your master in the back."

"Hoh? And what exactly have I done that makes you suspect me?" Kotomine, his arms folded behind his back and clad in his church vestments, did not seem to be one you should accuse of treason, but the workings of Giorno's mind were more complex than that. "Everything I've done, I've done for Tokiomi, for _our_ alliance."

As swift as the wind, Giorno spun on his heels and grabbed Kotomine by the neck, slamming him up against the wall. The impact was enough to fill the area with a cloud of dust. As it cleared, the two men were still locked in the same position, neither one showed any hint of emotion, it was impossible to tell what either party was thinking.

"For the alliance you say? I wasn't aware you were a comedian, Kotomine," Giorno's fingers squeezed down on the man's neck, not enough to harm him, but enough to show that he could end his life whenever he pleased. "I don't recall the time Tokiomi asked you to have your golems shadow me; did you think I wouldn't feel their presence?"

Giorno loosened his hold and dropped him to the ground; the priest fell to his knees, but quickly rose back to his feet. He didn't retaliate, he didn't even speak up, he just brushed off his clothing in silence. He was smart enough to understand his position; a human couldn't stand up against Servant after all.

"Leave, I'm expecting company, and you'll just get in the way," Giorno turned away and walked back to his original position in the center of the building. "If I catch you spying on me again, I _will_ inform my Master."

And so Kotomine disappeared without a response, a wise choice, Giorno wasn't in any kind of mood to deal with him for longer. He couldn't trust him, how could he ally himself with a man he couldn't trust? His master insisted on it, but Giorno would always consider him an enemy. Though, it was true that Kotomine hasn't done anything overt enough for Giorno to truly accuse him of anything, but when he did, he would be ready.

And he waited; he waited for an indeterminate period of time, completely unmoving almost like a statue. His eyes closed, he did nothing but wait and listen. He felt the air behind him displace, and his eyes snapped open. Spinning around he threw up his hand, catching between his fingers the invisible blade aimed at his neck. Not a single drop of blood was drawn; he had stopped the attack perfectly.

"..!" The blue swordswoman leapt back as soon as her attack had failed, wrenching the blade forms his hand. From her posture, her anger was obvious, as he expected. She'd played right into his hand, and she didn't even seem to realize it.

"You're far too predictable, Saber," Giorno cracked his neck and stretched out his arms, it seems like even a Servant's body can still become stiff from inaction. "I can see through your every move before you even make it."

"It matters not if you can see the blade coming, so long as it's too fast for you to avoid it!" Without hesitation Saber rushed in, the massive burst of mana behind her creating an explosion of dirt that reduced his visibility, but it wasn't an issue for him.

The blade cut into the ground where he had just been standing, but there was no longer a Servant standing in that spot. Confused, Saber's eyes darted around the building, but she couldn't see him.

"Coward, where are you hiding?!" She brandished her sword defensively, still clad in invisible air, but she couldn't tell where her opponent had vanished to. How could he have moved so fast she couldn't even see it?

"Right here," before she had a chance to react to the voice right at her ear, she was slammed into a nearby wall. It wasn't a hit that did any serious damage to her, outside of her pride. Giorno didn't know why, but he enjoyed toying with her, he could end the fight with ease, but he didn't want to.

"Archer… is this how you acted when you killed Lancer, and his Master?" She stood up, trying her best to remain composed, but her face lost its cold expression with each moment. "You don't take your fights seriously; you play around like a child pretending, how can you even call yourself a hero?!"

As she spoke, the swordswoman lunged in, her blade slicing a deadly arc through the air. Giorno dodged the blow, but it was no ordinary evasion, during his sidestep he took up his signature pose as if to mock her further. She struck at him again and again, lashing out in anger and frustration, but he gracefully avoided each attack with another pose.

"Who says I'm a hero, Saber?" He showed no signs of fatigue and was easily able to maintain his advantage in speed over her as if he wasn't trying at all, even going so far as to continue their conversation mid battle. "The fact the grail summoned me? What a joke, the grail summons mass murderers and calls them 'heroes,' but it's _me_ who lacks honor?"

Saber's relentless assault ceased at his words, unable to think up any response to them. What had he meant by that, what mass murderers could be allowed into the throne of heroes?

"Rider is Alexander the Great, is he not?" Giorno continued, pressing her more with each callus word that escaped his lips. "To many, he was nothing but an invader, responsible for the deaths of many, but he's worthy of the title of hero to you?"

"I-I, that's not…" She knew, on some level she knew he was right, but she couldn't accept it. Even as an invader, Rider was surely more suited to the throne of heroes than _him,_ who lacked anything a hero should have in her eyes.

"And what have I done to deserve this treatment, Saber? I've done nothing but play the game I was invited to, a battle between Masters and Servants. Are you of the same mind as Lancer? That this should be an honorable duel, that we should play fair?"

"Of course, a hero would never act in such a disrespectful way, we're meant to be better than that!" Her hands were shaking, it took everything left of her willpower to not attack him again, but she wouldn't strike him while he spoke, she was still a knight.

"What good is respect going to do me? Will it defeat my enemies, grant me my dream? Don't be ridiculous, you called me a child pretending, but isn't that a more fitting description of yourself? Honor and Respect have no place in a real battle, all that matters is victory!"

Saber was at her limit, she couldn't listen to his voice any longer, as all it did was anger her further. Without hesitation she cut an arc with her sword aimed for his neck, but it never reached its destination. Sparks showered her and Giorno as her sword connected against steel.

Standing between the two was a massive beast of a man, his sword drawn in a defensive posture. Giorno mentally scowled, this wasn't a part of his calculations, Rider was certainly a tough opponent to plan around. When had he even gotten here? Had he been so absorbed in the conflict with Saber that he hadn't felt him approach? It's not like he was stealthy in any way.

"Now now, let's not get too hasty here!" his voice bellowed through the empty building, practically shaking the foundation itself. "I can't have you two killing each other before I've had a go! The victors against Berserker and Lancer at the same location, it's my lucky day!"

Saber backed away, raising her sword to defend against both parties now before her, But Giorno didn't move an inch, was it confidence, or arrogance? The three servants held their positions for a time, none wanting to be the first to move. Giorno grew impatient, so he was the one to break the silence.

"Is your Master not with you tonight, Rider?" Giorno showed no sign of tension, his tone of voice was perfectly calm despite the situation around him. Rider too acted casually in what should by all rights be a three way standoff between legendary heroes. "How unlike you, I expected you to drag him around the entire war."

"My Master is currently occupied; trying to track down that Caster is proving to be quite difficult." The massive man let out a long sigh. "No matter what age, Magi always use the most boring of tactics; you can't even call what they do war!"

"Rider! Why you come here, what meaning is there in this interruption?" Saber shifted her upper body, her defensive stance changing to focus more on the newly arrived servant. While he acted calm, he must be there for a reason, and if that reason was to fight…

"Relax, Saber, I do not wish to fight you. Well, I should say that I don't wish to fight you _now_, I have other business." The bear of a man returned his blade to its scabbard, showing his intents for peace. For the man known as the King of Conquerors, lowering his weapon to the enemy seemed quite out of character. "Since three of the seven have been defeated, I wished to gather the remaining participants together for a discussion, but you're already aware of my inability to locate the Magus."

Giorno closed his eyes and reached out his hand, placing it against the wall to his side. A warm golden glow passed through his body into the stone foundation, and from below the floor, three trees sprouted. The trees shifted unnaturally as they grew, twisting into the shape of chairs. As soon as the tree-chair had formed, Giorno took a seat in the one nearest to his person, and gestured for the others to sit. Rider gladly accepted with a smile, but the swordswoman in blue stood her ground.

"Archer, do you take me for a fool?" she barked, her brow furling with anger. "I've seen what you can do with your abilities; sitting in a chair made by them would be akin to cutting open my own stomach!"

Silence fell over them again, the golden haired Servant did not respond to her accusation, he merely leaned back in his chair, propping his chin on the back of his hand. Saber refused to move, standing battle ready against the two relaxed Servants. Nothing about this made sense, they were enemies, this was _war._

"We may be enemies again by the end of the night, Saber, but I'll honor Rider's wishes, I owe him for his aid against Berserker at the docks." The bizarre servant of the bow, Archer, continued to baffle her, even if she spent years around him she doubted she could understand his strange personality. He gained nothing from this event, yet he chose to participate? It was completely unlike the cold and calculated mastermind who orchestrated Berserker's downfall. "As a heroic spirit, I have no honor to speak of, but on my word as the Boss of Passione, I would not dare attack you while you sit."

Reluctantly, Saber approached the chair, each step towards it more hesitant than the last. Finally, she sat down, though she never loosened her grip on her sword, still concealed with its sheath of Invisible Air.

"Good, good! Now the three of us can truly battle," Rider bellowed, his expression oddly cheerful for this situation. "But what I had in mind was no contest of strength; we will have plenty of time for that later."

"Talking seems unlike you, Rider," Saber turned to face the imposing man, her stern expression trying not to show any openings. "You appeared to be more interested in defeating us with martial strength, and now you desire conversation?"

"I'm a man of many faces, Saber," Rider grinned and leaned forward in his chair, throwing his hand out dramatically. "How very naive of you, King of Knights, you of all people should know a war can't be won with brute force alone!"

Saber's grip tightened around the hilt of her blade; being called naive by a hero remembered for his lust for conquer, how could she stand for that? One who reveled in destruction and war was judging her?

"Now then, let us get to the topic at hand, I want to learn your thoughts on this Holy Grail War. A grand debate to decide who among us is most worthy of possessing such a treasure!"

"It matters little if I'm 'worthy' or not to me, I'll take the Grail with these hands either way," The Archer, Giorno Giovanna, was quick to show his confidence, a self assurance bordering on true arrogance. He had no doubts in his mind, victory was already his, but even so, he would humor Rider.

"Such arrogant boasting, yet another dishonorable act from a so called hero," Saber's attention shifted back to him, her determined eyes locking with his cold gaze. "The Grail may have recognized you as a Heroic Spirit, but I will never acknowledge it, Archer!"

"What is a hero to do if he cannot boast of his own power? Confidence is not arrogance if it's well deserved, and from his exploits thus far, Archer appears quite justified in it."

"You say that now, but _you_ were not there, Rider," Saber's hands quivered as she tried to suppress her rage, not wanting to let her emotions get the best of her again. "He is a villain with no pride, one who would throw away his friends if it meant even slightly increasing his chances of victory!"

"I'm offended by that remark, Saber; I would not abandon my true friends unless it was the last chance, at which point they would understand that I _had_ to do it to survive." Despite his words, he continued to show no emotions on the outside, his mastery of his internal feelings far exceeded Saber's own, she showed more on her face then she thought. "If you refer to Lancer, I don't recall ever being friends with him. In fact, he was my enemy in this war."

"You requested his help, and then betrayed him!" Saber jumped to her feet, no longer able to stand sitting in a chair created by him. "How can I possibly accept that a man like you sits on the Throne of Heroes, alongside my comrades?"

"Are you saying that you've never sacrificed anything, anyone?" Giorno rose to his feet, he wouldn't allow her to look down on him. His flat tone doing nothing to betray his current motives, would he attack? "You are a king, Rider is a king, and I am the closest thing to a king there was in my time, so I'm sure you both know what it feels like? To lead your friends to their deaths, because it's the only thing you can do."

"I… don't act like you can understand me, Archer!" She brought her sword to bare, half entering a combat stance. Was it her honor that prevented her from striking first, or another hesitation within her? "We are nothing alike, I grieve for the losses of my men, but you would step over their corpses if it meant victory!"

"A king's people live to serve their country," Rider too stood up, most likely to remain on equal ground with them. His massive form towered over the two short Servants; maybe he should have remained seated. "They live to serve the king, to die for the king."

"A king should live to die for her people, not the other way around! What good is a king who cannot defend her kingdom?" Saber was quick to defend her position, though her voice didn't sound as confident as she had wanted. It betrayed her real feelings, her doubts.

"A kingdom with no king will fail; a leader must strive to be stronger than his followers, so that even if one or two fall, the rest remain strong enough to walk forward!" Giorno entered the argument, striking another absurd pose as he spoke. It made him hard to take seriously, but he did it nonetheless. "You say I would walk over my friend's corpses to achieve victory? You're not wrong, but it's not as simple as that in the real world. I lost men in my life, irreplaceable friends died for my ambition, but what should I have done when it happened? Wallowed in self pity, given up?"

"I… a good leader would show remorse for his actions leading to their deaths! To feel nothing at their deaths is an insult to their memory!"

"It would be an insult to give up once they died, the only way to honor my comrades is to stay _strong,_ to fight on and grasp victory with my own hand, so that they did not die in vain." Giorno stretched out his hand, clenching it tightly into a fist. "I don't let my emotions show on my face, just like you strive to do as well, surely you can understand why?"

"I…"

"Strength, in order to follow a leader into battle, you must believe in their strength! I show no emotions so that I may be an iron willed leader, so my men can look upon me and see I fear nothing, so they too can become fearless!" Giorno turned, facing away from both others at the scene. "Rider can surely rally his people with his sheer charisma, but for us, who lack imposing figures, we have to be strong for our people, correct?"

Rider crossed his arms and nodded, but Saber stood in silence. it was obvious from her reaction that she didn't agree, but she wasn't even able to defend her point of view? How pathetic, this really was a waste of time.

"You… you're wrong," Saber muttered under her breath, barely audible to the other Servants. Her entire body seemed to be trembling, was it fear? Or was her anger? Perhaps it was both, anger at Giorno for belittling her ideals, and fear… that he was correct. "A king must be strong, but all you have is a façade of strength! You and I are not alike, not in any way!"

"Now you two, let's calm down before we do something rash here," Rider interjected, trying his best to cool the rising conflict before him. "It matters little how we ruled in life during this war, and neither side of this argument is really wrong. I say a king must try and live up to both of your ideals, one who is kind to his people, but strong enough to fight through loss!"

Rider's booming voice, which carried with it his natural charisma, settled down the situation for a time. He was someone who could truly be considered a king, his mere words bent others to his wills, it was the only way to explain how this scene was playing out in the first place.

"Now then, before we tear each other limb from limb, let us discuss the grail," Rider fell back into his chair with a thunderous crash, his heavy body shaking the foundation of the building. The other Servants soon followed, and the violent tension that had been gathering in the air was allowed to dissipate once more. "I have but one question, one that cuts to the heart of this debate. What is your desire, what do you wish from the grail?"

Saber was at a loss for words, how bold could this man be? To ask such a personal question of them, what was he trying to gain from this activity?

"There was a time in my life, where I lost everything," Surprising both her and Rider, Giorno spoke first. They could never have anticipated him to be the first to share his deepest desire, when he kept such a tight hold on his emotions. "My wish is simple, I want it back, everything that was taken from me will be restored."

"Ha, a selfish wish for a self centered Servant, it fits you too well, Archer!" She took no time in mocking his wish, it was exactly as she expected. He wished for nothing but his own happiness, what was all that talk about being strong for his people? She could hardly keep from laughing at the contradiction.

"If that's a selfish wish, that mine is as well," Rider spoke next, his voice cutting into the conversation right before Saber had planned to continue speaking. "My wish… is to be human once again."

"I… would not have expected that from you, Rider," Saber cocked her head to the side in confusion, the larger than life Servant before her did not seem like he would have such a normal wish, yet his words were sincere. "Are you saying you wish to be reborn? Could you not wish for world conquest?"

You don't understand, world conquest is my _goal_, not my wish! There's no point in conquest I have not experienced with my own two hands!" Rider thrust his fist into the air, a determined lock on his face. "It might be selfish, doing nothing but appease my own ego, but it is what I desire most in the world."

Then finally, only she remained, the swordswoman clad in blue had yet to answer the question. She readied herself mentally, preparing for the reactions of her wish, one completely selfless and opposite of theirs.

"I suppose it is now my turn," she coughed, clearing her throat. "I wish… to avert the destruction of Britain."

The men grew silent, not a single sound escaping their lips for an inordinate amount of time. Giorno could only imagine that Rider was thinking the same things he was, for neither made any attempt at rebuttal.

"Why so quiet, have you realized your folly, wishing for such trivialities next to my saint like devotion to my country?" Saber puffed out her chest, assuming a slightly haughtier than normal attitude with each word she spoke.

"Saber…" Giorno finally spoke, his voice sending a chill down her spine. He locked eyes with her, his unchanging expression carrying something else with its cold gaze. Was it her imagination? "Isn't that wish… the most selfish one between us?"

Saber leapt to her feet, her shock clearly plastered over her face. Giorno couldn't help but enjoy seeing her get flustered over his words, though he didn't understand why.

"Are you mad, Archer?! How is my wish selfish in any way, I want for nothing of my own, but for my people, my country to prosper!" She pointed her invisible blade towards the seated Giorno, who stood up in response. "It is you who has a selfish wish, you and Rider who would watch your cities burn if it got you what you wanted!"

"You're wrong, Saber, yours is more selfish than you seem to realize," Giorno walked towards her, reaching his hand out towards her sword. He pushed aside the blade like it was nothing, all the resistance in her arms meaningless against his overwhelming presence. He stepped in closer, his face drawing ever closer to hers. "If your wish was for Britain to survive, then you must have already won this war, Britain still stands, in a slightly altered state, but thriving nonetheless."

"But that's not…" she trailed off, no longer wishing to say the final part of her sentence. But Giorno had an idea of what she was planning to speak, and guessed correctly.

"It's not what? It's not _your_ Britain? Then you admit I'm right, that you selfishly wish for the country _you_ led to survive, and not the county itself."

"That isn't it at all, you don't understand! I drove my kingdom to ruin with my actions, without me it might have been able to survive, to flourish! In your arrogance you talk about things you know nothing about, and I'll have no more of it!"

She could no longer control her anger, her body quivering with rage; she clenched her fist and stuck out against him. His own hand moved like the wind, catching her punch before it managed to land on his face. She leapt back, taking her sword in both hands and entering a combat stance.

"I guess the debate is over, sorry you didn't get much of a chance to speak, Rider," Giorno turned away from the massive servant and faced his original opponent, he had expected things to return to conflict eventually, but it was disappointing that it had to happen so fast. "Well then Saber, you say I'm wrong about you, but if you can't tell me how with words… maybe you can show it to me in combat!"

Rider instinctively backed away, and not a moment too soon, as the two blonde Servants exploded into battle. Even for another Heroic Spirit, the two's fight was hard to follow. Each attack and deflection was faster than the last, turning into a blur of motion.

Saber's flurry of blows would cut down any normal enemy, but Giorno Giovanna was far for normal. Each of her strikes he not on dodged, but did so while striking an absurd pose. He made it look easy, but even with his incredibly agility, he had to admit she was a strong foe, it took everything he had to keep up with her enraged movements. After jumping out of the way of a jumping slash that cut several feet through solid concrete, Giorno was suddenly glad this girl wasn't summoned as Berserker.

"Fight me seriously, you coward!" Saber leapt at him, jumping off the wall of the building at times to alter her course. She swung her blade horizontally, slashing towards his neck, but he transformed the collar of his suit jacket into a small vine, blocking the attack completely.

Both servants landed in the open courtyard of the under construction building, whole Rider stood at the entrance and watched the duel. Giorno returned his clothing to normal, and, after brushing some dust off his shoulder, started towards her. And then, he disappeared.

A fist slammed into her breastplate before she had time to react, launching her into the air. He was so fast; even she couldn't keep up with his movements. She didn't have time to contemplate this for long, as a flurry of blows rained down on her. With a cry of muda at each strike, his fists transformed into a deadly storm that pummeled every inch of her body, sending her crashing into the ground with explosive force.

"You talk tough, but when it comes to blows, you can't seem to back it up," Giorno landed next to her, his impact barely making a sound. "Is this all that your resolve can bring out!"

His next move was a powerful kick to her side, a vicious blow that perfectly reflected his ruthless nature. He had no need for honor in a fight; he had already said as much, all that mattered to him was victory. And for the Servant known as Giorno Giovanna, victory seemed only moments away, Saber barely seemed to be putting up a resistance anymore.

She staggered to her feet, her entire body shaking. Blood seeped through the gaps in her armor, staining the blue swordswoman crimson. Blood dripped down her hand onto her sword, outlining the invisible blade clearly as it hung loosely in her grip. She made no move to retaliate or retreat; she seemed frozen where she stood.

"Muda muda muda!" Giorno dashed towards her, throwing two fast punches which connected with her face, followed by a powerful uppercut delivered straight to her chin. The Servant of the sword collapsed in a pool of her own blood, her eyes staring emptily at the sky. "I was wrong, if you're this weak, Britain _would_ have been better off without you."

He had hardly even called on the power of his Stand, and the fight was over, was he worried about Saber for nothing? Was she really this weak, or had he become stronger than he thought?

"Un…" Saber forced her broken body to her feet, gritting her teeth through the pain as she rose up. "Unforgivable! Archer, I will put an end to that slanderous tongue of yours!"

"You can't defeat me, Saber, you should be able to see that by now," Giorno posed before her, one hand tugging on the heart shaped opening on his jacket, the other resting on his hip. He remained confident in his abilities, but a slight concern found its way into his mind when he remembered her Noble Phantasm. If she planned to defeat him now, she would definitely use it, so in response, he began to draw up his own power, his trump card he only used once in demonstration in this war.

He could feel the mana building up within Saber, an enormous amount of energy; it was truly an unstoppable Noble Phantasm. Unstoppable that is… for a normal Servant, but Giorno was far from normal.

The sword in Saber's hands became visible; the enchantment that protected its form vanished in a burst of air that whipped across the construction site. In place of the translucent sword, was a radiant blade, its form was too stunning to be the work of any mortal hand. A peerless silver blade atop a golden cross guard, one look at the sword is enough for any Heroic Spirit to recognize it.

"The sword of promised victory…" Rider nearly gasped from the sidelines, though the sight of the sword had no effect on Giorno, who had already witnessed its powers. "To think I would get to see such a weapon with my own eyes, I am ever thankful to be summoned in this war!"

Saber's eyes narrowed, focusing only on Giorno, the rage in her eyes was almost enough to be classified as a weapon in itself. The two Servants faced off, the tension in the air between them elevated even more by the intense buildup of mana in the area.

"Ex-" Saber raised her sword above her head as a golden light began to swirl around it, gathering in the blade. Likewise, Giorno extended his arms to his sides, golden light enveloping his open palms. Without hesitation, she swung her sword, the symbol of her legend.

"-Calibur!"

The beam of light roared from the tip of her blade at the call of the weapon's true name, an attack that could eliminate entire castles in one blow, it was excessive to say the least, to use it against one target. But that was how much he had pushed her, how dangerous an enemy she considered Giorno.

"Gold Experience…" Giorno stood at the mouth of the explosive attack, not even attempting to flee the blast. Even Rider had fallen back; disappearing to somewhere he could still witness the end of the duel no doubt. Giorno clenched his fist, and waited for the wave of light to reach him. Seconds before he was engulfed, he punched the oncoming attack.

"Requiem!"

The hand that he threw at Saber's attack was clad in gold, but it was not his own. The arm came from behind his back, like an ally waiting for the best moment to strike. An inhuman, almost mechanical golden arm reached out and touched the light.

The intense heat created by the wave vanished in an instant, and the darkness of night returned. The light that rivaled the sun disappeared without a trace, leaving only the two combatants where they stood. The power of Gold Experience Requiem erased her attack, or to be more accurate, it erased the event of her activating her attack in the first place.

Giorno relished the look of utter confusion painted on Saber's face; he didn't blame her, as his power was hard to comprehend even for him. The figure behind him began to fade, erased from the world like it had never existed, but it _had_ been there. If only for a brief moment when he activated his Requiem, he returned to being the way he was before, his Stand existed at his back for those fleeting seconds, and he felt whole, _human._

She had seen it, based on the look on her face, as had Tokiomi. In his world, only another Stand user could see a Stand, but it seemed those in this world who possess some form of magical affinity could also see them.

"It looks like you don't have the 'resolve' to reach me, so I suppose I've won this 'debate' for now, Saber," Normally, he wouldn't be one to gloat, but the confused look of anguish on her face… he wanted to tease her more. "Though, even with all the resolve you could muster, I doubt you could scratch me through my Gold Experience Requiem."

"What the hell… what was that, Archer?!" Her eye twitched, she did her best to hold on to her sanity, but she had witnessed something totally baffling. "How did you… what kind of Noble Phantasm was that? What was that figure behind you?!"

"That was my Stand, Gold Experience Requiem, the limits of its power are beyond even my understanding," Giorno walked slowly towards her, his posture as casual as it could be in such a situation. "But its basic ability is to 'cancel' anything; it cannot be defeated by normal means, even if your attack possessed the trait of being 'unblockable,' my Stand would cancel the attack from ever having been launched in the first place."

His power was truly without peer, rivaling even the gods. It became abundantly clear to Saber why he had hidden this power for so long… he had been toying with them since the start. He was never in the same league as the rest of them; they barely stood a chance against his ordinary power, to have this as his trump card…

"Wonderful!" Rider stepped out of the shadows, clapping boisterously with a smile on his face. "I really must have you for my army, are you sure you won't reconsider my offer?"

"Sorry, but the only one here who'll get their hands on the Holy Grail is me; I don't make deals." Giorno's body stiffened on instant, and he spun around on the spot and threw a punch. "Finally making your move huh… Kotomine?"

Impaled on Giorno's fist was a lifeless golem, its magical core completely shattered by his attack. He let the broken construct fall to the ground as his eyes darted around the darkness. Soon, the entire area was a sea of golems, just how many of these things had Caster created?

"So the Magus decided to come out and play, it's about time," Rider strode in front of Giorno, drawing his shortsword. "Looks like it's my turn you two, stand back and witness how a real king fights!"

Giorno stood back, now was a perfect time for him to learn the abilities Rider possessed, though he doubted anything he had in stock would be able to match his Requiem. But now Giorno finally had an excuse, he could deal with the remaining pests in this war; he clenched his fist in anticipation.

"I'm going to crush you between my fingers… Kotomine.!"


	7. Chapter 6: Shattered

Giorno had to admit, it was impressive how many golems Kotomine had managed to stockpile, one of the benefits of his servant being summoned a year early it would seem. Giorno also had to give the priest credit, his timing had been impeccable.

To attack them directly after both himself and Saber had used their ultimate techniques, their Noble Phantasms, put them at a serious disadvantage. Even with his overwhelming Stand power, it was still currently tied to his mana, and using his Requiem exhausted a great deal of his reserves. Were he to try and use it right now, he risks running out of power completely and losing his anchor to this world. In other words, he would die.

His mana would refill quite easily with a high class magus such as Tokiomi as a Master, but it would still take a few minutes of time. And in that short span, he was entirely vulnerable. This was the reason he held back, the only thing keeping him of utilizing the power of Gold Experience Requiem to its fullest.

Saber seemed to be in much the same situation, as she struggled to even fight back against the golems surrounding them. She panted with each movement of her clearly fatigued body, pushing further than her stamina should allow. It reminded Giorno of himself, always pushing through his pain, his weakness, to continue fighting.

But the two Servants were clearly exhausted, so much so that even against golems that they normally outmatched without question they faced a serious threat. It was perhaps a blessing then, that Rider had interrupted them before. Giorno wasn't sure if it was an oversight on Kotomine's part, or if he had just underestimated him, but Rider completely shifted the flow of the battle.

Rider, the King of Conquerors Iskandar, lifted his sword to the sky. Despite the overwhelming force around him, he remained calm. For a man who spent his life as a warrior, it was no surprise, but what followed was a definite shock for the two other Servants.

"This, my friends, is how a _True King_ does battle!" mana surged around the larger than life man, and a blinding light exploded from where he was standing, washing over the surrounding area. "Ionioi Hetairoi!"

The world changed, the landscape shifting into a new form. Instead of the modern city block they were in, an endless desert plain stretched out all around them. Giorno could never had anticipated this, was this some form of magic? Or was it an ability heroic spirits all possessed? Judging from Saber's reaction, the latter was unlikely.

"Behold… my peerless army!" Rider swept up his arm, his cloak flapping through the air. "My friends, my allies, loyal even in death! Even now they heed my call to arms, a King could never hope for better subjects!"

Appearing like a mirage in the sand, an uncountable amount of figures appeared. As they approached, their forms became more and more clear. Giorno could feel it, each one of them, though weak, was a heroic spirit in their own right. More than a creation of Rider's, they were an independent existence, with their own strengths and weaknesses.

"Bucephalus, come to me!" Rider called out to the distance, and within seconds a horse ran towards them. A massive, black stallion that was just as unreal as its owner. Even the horse was a heroic spirit, it was almost unbelievable. "This is my ultimate treasure, my right to rule! Come men; let us crush our enemies below out boots! AAAALaLaLaLaLaie!"

With a deafening war cry, Rider's army charged the golems. If there was one thing in this battle-royal that could truly be considered 'war', it was this fight. Rider's forces clashed with the golems, overwhelming the army of constructs.

Each soldier was a servant, a heroic spirit that pledged themselves to Rider in both body and soul, there was no way they would lose here. They wouldn't fail their king, not against such an enemy as the one before them. The constructs were broken apart, shattered, slashed, and otherwise dismantled by the might of Rider's conquest.

The two sides clashed, but rider clearly had the upper hand. his forces were warriors, soldiers who had trained in combat. The golems lacked skill, showing no tactical mindset, almost as if they were mindless drones. The battle quickly turned into a one sided slaughter, Rider and his men cutting a deadly swath through the constructs ranks, until none remained.

And then, as quickly as it began, it had ended. The Reality Marble summoned by both Rider and his subjects combined strength faded and vanished. The world returned to normal, and the only sign of the battle that had taken place that remained was the sea of destroyed golems around them.

Rider sheathed his sword and turned to the other Servants behind him. A fire burned in his eyes unlike before, it looks like Caster's attack had ignited something in the massive Heroic Spirit.

"I hope you do not find my sudden departure rude, but I have some business with a certain Magus," Rider reached out, grasping the empty air before him, a set of reins appearing in his hand. His chariot manifested by his command, and he stepped onto its back. "I must reconvene with my Master, farewell, I hope we meet again at the finale of this grand game!"

With a crack of the reins, Rider's chariot took off, soaring across the sky in a trail of lightning. This couldn't have worked out better for Giorno, everything had fallen into place. He had needed a way to get rider out of the way, and what perfect an enemy than Caster? Whoever won in their now seemingly inevitable battle, Giorno would still be closer to victory.

It was all going too perfectly, until he remembered his current predicament. Turning back, he faced the swordswoman with her gilded blade. Rider's battle against the Golems had served to allow them both time to recover, and from the looks of it, Saber was ready to continue their fight.

"Are you really going to try and fight me even now? Did you not see my Stand's power?" Was she just being stubborn? Or did she have another trick up her sleeve? Whichever it was, she still seemed confident in her ability to beat him, a level of self assuredness that made him wary.

"I won't rest until I've taken your head, Archer!" She brought her sword to bear once again, placing it firmly between herself and her opponent. "If your Noble Phantasm will stop my blade, then I need only wear you down to the point you can no longer use it!"

He had wanted to defeat Assassin, to stop her spree of murder. He wanted to defeat Berserker to remove the shame of losing against a mindless enemy. And when he defeated Lancer, his only desire was to kill the Master who controlled him, Lancer was merely a casualty.

But in the face of this foe, this young woman who refused to back down despite their positions, he wanted something else. He had noticed it before, something inside of him stirred whenever she became flustered or angry with him. She made him want to _fight_ her, not to claim his victory in the war, but to see how she reacted. He had been holding back, not really going on the offensive with his full strength, but now…

Giorno kicked off the ground, going from zero to a full sprint in seconds. With each step, a mass of trees and vines grew behind him. Saber was quick to follow, dashing through his newly birthed forest, cutting down anything in her path. For whatever reason, she was unaffected by the backlash effect of his stand power, and took no damage from destroying his creations.

Vines moved to trip her, to strange and bind her body, but she cut them down effortlessly. A great boar changed through the trees, aiming to gore the Servant of the Sword. Saber dashed forward, slicing cleanly through the animal with her blade.

From above, Giorno fell towards her, launching a kick at her blade to deflect it away. Saber used the momentum of the redirected blade to her advantage, transforming it into a spinning slash. Her blade truly cut into him for the first time in the battle, and Giorno was thrown back, his arm severed at the elbow.

Saber smiled, it looked like she considered her victory was assured now, perhaps she didn't realize the extent of his capabilities? He stood up, picking a branch off the ground with his remaining hand. In a flash of gold the wood had become living flesh, attaching itself to his bleeding stump.

Giorno couldn't believe it, but he seemed to be… _enjoying_ this? With every exchange of blows, he found himself more engaged in the battle. He wanted to keep going, to experience more of her strengths, more of her weaknesses. He wanted to see her _resolve._

His heart racing, Giorno Giovanna leapt back into the fray, his golden fists clashing with her holy sword. The battle was nothing like before, he didn't mock her with his actions, and his arrogance began to melt away through the battle.

In this moment, in this duel, they became equals.

* * *

Giorno had insisted on not using Kirei's golems for surveillance during his plan, and Tokiomi had reluctantly agreed, deciding to trust his Servant's judgment. Instead, the Tohsaka magus had used one of his own familiars to monitor the fight. Everything was going according to the plan they had set up, Giorno would lure Saber out, knowing she would likely be interested in a settling things with him. But when Rider had shown himself, Tokiomi found himself pouring a stronger drink.

When Rider offered to talk, Tokiomi wasn't sure what his Archer would do, but agreeing to the debate proved most helpful. Knowing one's mental weaknesses is almost as important as knowing their physical strengths. As he sat in his chair, observing the battle of words with his familiar's senses, he thought about how far they had come in the war.

Sure, he wasn't confident at first, but his Servant had lived up to his original expectations and then some. And now, as the fighting drew to a close, with only two real enemies remaining, he could rest _slightly_ more easily.

At first, he hadn't known what to think of his servant, he still didn't really, but it felt as though a mutual respect was forming between them. He was beginning to understand how to read the expressions on his statuesque Servant's face, because while he appeared outwardly emotionless, it was merely a mask. A mask the Tokiomi felt he was breaking through, not that it mattered this late into the ritual.

The Holy Grail War, more properly known by its true title of 'Heaven's Feel', was drawing to a close. And with it, his dreams would be realized. Generations spent on one singular goal, and he was about to reach it!

That all changed however, when he felt an electric shock run through his mind. A low buzzing in his thoughts that was the signal of one thing, an intruder passing through his estate's bounded field. The magical warning system he had in place also served to enhance his own effectiveness, one of the main reasons he chose to stay at his home during the war.

He stood up and quickly took hold of his cane, which doubled as a Mystic Code that allowed for him to summon gouts of flame without an incantation. Whoever or whatever was attempting to sneak into his home, he was ready. If need be he would recall his Servant with a second command spell, but he was hesitant to use it if it wasn't needed.

The study door splintered and broke apart, a humanoid figure cloaked in shadows rushing out towards him. With a flick of his wrist, a wave of fire washed over the attacker from his staff, and the figure fell to the ground unceremoniously. As the magical flames disappeared, Tokiomi saw the true form of the attacker.

"What is the meaning of this… Kirei?" At his feet lay a charred, broken golem. It was in the same style as those employed by Caster, and thus his apprentice. Had Giorno been right? Was this a sign of the priest's betrayal, or had his servant gone rogue?

Either way, he knew his next course of action. Grabbing his red overcoat and quickly pulling it on, Tokiomi left his estate. It was somewhat risky to leave the protection of his base, but he could always summon his Servant to his side at a moment's notice.

He kept a watchful eye on his surroundings as he headed into town, his destination: the Catholic Church used as a base of operations for his apprentice. His allies in this war, Kirei Kotomine and his father Risei, who also served as the 'impartial' overseer of the Holy Grail War should be there, and he needed to speak with them both.

He had to find out the meaning of this attack, and if Giorno suspicions were right… he needed to talk with Risei about his son. The fading light of evening cast an eerie glow on his trip, and as he made his way to the church the gloom of night slowly took over. He stepped up to the large wooden doors of the building and pushed them aside, the doors giving off a loud creak as they moved.

"Risei, I must speak with you immediately, it is a matter of grave importance," as he spoke, he surveyed the chapel, which appeared empty at first glance. But then he saw something at the edge of his vision, a dark shadow by the altar. Cautiously, he began to approach it. "..!"

Tokiomi rushed to the altar as soon as he saw it, kneeling down beside it. At his feet was a body, a corpse. Risei Kotomine was dead, a deep wound in his chest. His right arm had been severed completely from the shoulder down, and based on the lack of blood on the wound; it had been done after the man had already been killed.

Tokiomi didn't want to believe it, but he could only think of one answer as to why this happened. There was no one else who would have reason to kill Risei, it had to be him. The Tohsaka head was now deeply regretting ignoring his Servant's warnings; Giorno must have seen something he couldn't in Kirei.

Tokiomi placed his hand over Risei's face, shutting the dead man's eyes. The body was not yet cold, Kirie most have been here recently. The magus stood up, his grip tightening around his staff. His senses told him he was no longer alone, that something was watching him.

He twirled around, releasing a gout of flame from his staff. The spell washed over the chapel, reducing everything in its path to cinders. As he suspected, a golem had been watching him.

Two more golems leapt from the shadows, one crashing through a nearby stained glass window, they both seemed more heavily armed than the last. Through the falling shards of glass it rushed Tokiomi, but the magus was ready for it. He reached into his pocket and brought out a gemstone, a deep blue in color. Hurling the gem at the charging construct, he shouted a command, the mana in his body surging.

"_Ausbrechen_!"

The gem exploded into a sphere of azure energy, completely swallowing the golem. Tokiomi wasted no time and returned his attention to the other; he thrust his staff into a gap in the golem's armor, unleashing a wave of flames that charred it from within.

While it could be said that Caster's golems approached "Servant Class," individually they were no threat to a high class magus such as Tokiomi. So long as he wasn't completely surrounded, he could face them evenly.

His eyes darted around the room, but no more golems appeared. Instead, a slow clapping from behind him echoed through the church. He leapt back, turning around as he did so, and came face to face with his student.

"Marvelous, you truly are an unparalleled magus in this age, Tokiomi," Kirei Kotomine, dressed in his church frock, stood behind the altar, next to his father's corpse. "Defeating not one, but four of Caster's golems in total, I understand where your overconfidence stems from."

"Kirei, what have you _don_e?" Tokiomi raised his staff towards the former priest. "What madness has befallen you? This man was _your father_, what possible reason do you have for your actions?!"

"To complete his Noble Phantasm, Caster required some… rare components," Kotomine walked past his father's body, casually stepping over it. "The amount of magic users in this city who qualify is, unfortunately, quite low."

Tokiomi could feel it in his words, something had changed in Kirei. He no longer sounded empty, no more was he a puppet going through the motions of human life. There was a spark within him, a passion.

"Caster concluded that the command seals provided by the grail could be used to substitute, so that's why I'm here," as he spoke, he lifted his right arm and pulled up the sleeve. On his arm was not only the three command spells he was granted as a master, but numerous more running the entire way up his arm.

"You killed him… to steal the leftover command spells from the previous wars the overseer guards," Tokiomi was appalled, was this really the student he had been training these last two years? "But why, you don't even wish for anything from the grail, why do all of this if you have no desire to win?"

"Things have changed, _Master._ Before, I wanted answers, answers about myself. But I no longer need any, for I have learned the truth about myself!" Kirei stopped, remaining just out of Tokiomi's range. "I thought I couldn't experience happiness, that I was cursed to find the world bland and uninteresting forever. But I simply had the wrong perspective; I finally realized this thanks to your wife."

"What does Aoi have to do with your currently lunacy? I haven't the faintest idea what you're even on about, have you gone completely mad?!"

"Perhaps I have, or more accurately, perhaps I've been mad since the beginning, but it wasn't until I encounter your wife while gathering supplies for Caster that I realized it." For the first time since he had known him, Kirei Kotomine showed emotion, a twisted smile spreading across his face. "Her screams were quite… _enlightening_."

All of the color in Tokiomi's face drained out in an instant, he couldn't think, he couldn't move. Slowly, his thoughts restarted, and the magus realized the implications of Kirei's words. All rational thoughts exited his mind, replaced entirely by a red haze. He lost control, screaming an incomprehensible sound before charging the priest.

Fire leapt from his staff as he swung it through the air, cutting a burning arc through the church. The priest jumped back, throwing a black key at the enraged magus. Tokiomi smashed the key to the ground with his staff and rushed forward, preparing another spell.

Kotomine jumped into the air, throwing another volley of black keys before flipping over his former master. Tokiomi's flames engulfed the blades, destroying them; he turned towards his former student, his eyes burning with rage.

Tokiomi raised his hand, pointing it towards Kirei. His magic crest surged to life, the mana flowing through it causing it to glow a bright blue. He unleashed a blast of magic from his hand towards the priest, the shot flying through the church with the force of a bullet.

Gandr, normally a curse that causes one to fall sick when struck, but the Gandr stored on the Tohsaka family crest was a different beast entirely. It became less of a curse that sickens, and rather a destructive bolt that breaks it's target apart with sheer force.

Tokiomi rained Gandr shots down upon the priest, but Kirei dodged them all easily. The priest threw another key, slicing through Tokiomi's shoulder. Wincing, he staggered back.

That was all the time Kirei needed, and he launched three more keys in a smooth arc. Two of them hit Tokiomi in the arm, and the third impaled his shadow, pinning the magus in place.

Tokiomi raised his hand and began to trace a rune in the air, when a stabbing pain shot through his chest. He looked down; a bleak key was firmly embedded in his chest. As blood poured down his body, the magus raised his hand, his command spells glowing.

"A-Archer…" he addressed his servant, who by the command spells magic would be able to answer his commands even while he wasn't present. "I command you… to kill Kirei Kotomine, right _now!" _with a cough, he spit out the last of his command. Tokiomi staggered and fell to his knee, hacking up blood.

From his side, a flash of light filled his fading vision, and out from the light stepped his Servant, the strange man's purple suit confirming it was definitely him. But at the same time, a flash of light shot through the church, and Tokiomi barely had a chance to register what it was before everything went black.

Then the magus known as Tokiomi Tohsaka was no more.

* * *

Giorno's fists were a blur, but each strike was parried by Saber's incredible swordplay. Without the protection of his stand, he wouldn't be able to fight hand to hand against such a swordsman, but for now his powers held out despite how exhausted he was.

The two's clash pushed themselves beyond even the limits of a Heroic Spirit; by all rights they should have long fallen unconscious from fatigue. It was nothing short of pure willpower that kept the two standing, neither one wanting to give even the slightest of victories to the other. Panting, Giorno broke off from Saber, who did not immediately follow due to her own exhaustion.

"So this is your resolve, Saber?" Giorno wiped the sweat from his forehead, he couldn't remember the last time he had been pushed this far. "It's far stronger than I initially thought, but it still won't be enough!"

Giorno charged back in, intending to end the fight there. He would have liked the fight to go on, but he still had a dream he had to achieve, and she was in the way. He would end this battle, defeat whoever remained from the battle of Rider and Caster, and he would finally be able to _go home_.

And then, in a flash of light, he was no longer in front of Saber. He heard the word echo in his mind, his Master's desperate call for help. As soon as his surroundings came into view, he realized where he was, and then he saw the state of his master. he started towards Tokiomi when he saw from the corner of his eye, Kirei throw three black keys towards his Master.

"Muda!" Giorno cried, punching one of the blades mid fight, shattering it on impact. But his body was tired, and it moved slower than he expected. The second blade struck him in the ribs, momentarily stunning him as he couldn't comprehend that a human had injured him.

In that moment's lapse, the third blade slipped past him, hitting dead between Tokiomi's eyes. Giorno felt his connection with his master be severed in an instant, and he practically fell to his knees. The weakness he felt, his mana was already low from his fight with Saber; to be cut off now left him in a state that was barely more than human.

He rushed towards Kotomine, but the priest was faster, a black key slashing across Giorno's chest. Giorno tumbled to the ground, barely able to move. His entire body was burning; he could feel his hold on the world slipping away. Even with his class ability of Independent Action, he wasn't able to use his Noble Phantasms without the backup of a master.

But still… he wanted to kill Kotomine. Not because of the command spell, its power had vanished as soon as his Master had perished, but because _he _wanted it. Giorno might not have agreed with Tokiomi on all things, but they had grown a mutual respect as the war had progressed. And to see him struck down by a man he trusted completely, he couldn't let that go unpunished.

"U-Unforgivable…" Giorno dragged himself to his feet, pain wracking through his entire body. But still his expression held; he wouldn't show a single second of weakness to the enemy before him. "Kotomine… let me show you how the 'Boss' deals with traitors!"

He ran towards the priest, ignoring his body's signals to stop. He couldn't win, he knew that already, but he wouldn't surrender, not if there was even a one percent chance of victory! His fist flew through the air, almost appearing to be slow motion compared to his usual speed.

Kotomine moved with the swiftness expected of a trained church executioner, ducking past Giorno's sluggish punch and driving his knee against the Servant's gut. Normally, a human would have no hope of matching a Servant in hand to hand combat, but this was an exception to the rule.

Giorno Giovanna, a Servant who has abilities only slightly above the human average without his Stand powers, cut off from his main strengths with Tokiomi's death made him as weak as a human.

Kirei Kotomine, a man whose training allowed him to go against superhuman enemies such as demons or vampires, without even using his magic to reinforce his own body. He was in this moment a perfect counter against the weakened Giorno, the Servant's natural enemy.

Kirei kicked Giorno's feet out from under him, and the Servant fell to the cold stone floor of the chapel. He brought out three more black keys from his coat, holding them between his fingers like claws. The priest leapt into the air and threw the daggers at his prone target, each blade aimed to kill the Servant.

Giorno's fingers wrapped around the black key still embedded in his body, ripping it out in an excruciating display of gore. He swung the blade in an arc above him, the bloodstained dagger crashing against Kirei's latest projectiles.

Giorno stood up, a weak golden glow appearing around his left hand. He placed it on his side and attempted to heal himself, but it barely had any effect. This was his limit, something he had wondered about for some time since his summoning, but he had finally reached it. He couldn't go on; he couldn't achieve victory, not like this.

His power was fading, even trying to draw out a minor amount of it made him feel as if he would slip away into darkness. He barely had enough mana left to maintain his body, let alone heal it.

But yet he didn't back down, he made no endeavor to escape, had he accepted his fate? Giorno stood perfectly still in the church aisle, his eyes closed. Blood ran down his side from his wound, staining the white church crimson.

Kotomine drew a black key and slowly walked towards the defenseless Servant. Giorno gave no signs of hostility; he had clearly surrendered to the priest, so he had no need to hesitate. Kirei raised his blade and slashed towards Giorno's exposed neck.

"Muda Muda!" Giorno's eyes sprang open, his entire body exploding into motion. He hadn't given up; he was merely gathering the little remaining strength in his body for one last attack.

Giorno twisted his upper body to try and dodge the slash, the blade only managed to make a non fatal cut against the side of his neck thanks to his swift reflexes. Giorno's fist rose up into an uppercut, a golden glow cutting a streak through the dark church. The veins in his body were ready to burst, his muscles convulsed against the strain he was pushing through.

His fist struck the priest in the jaw, filling him with the last of his Stand's energy. Giorno fell to the ground, unable to stay standing. Likewise, the priest stood in the church, a confused look frozen on his face.

His mind was overflowing with life, causing his thought process to speed up to the point his body couldn't interpret the signals being sent to it. This in turn created an effect that essentially 'stunned' the target.

Giorno coughed up blood as he dragged himself along the floor, the state he was in would have shattered the pride of any normal Servant, but he refused to give in. Even if he had to crawl on his hands and knees to survive, Giorno would never quit moving forward.

This was his resolve, the resolve to sacrifice anything, his family and friends, even his own pride. The ends don't just justify the means, they _vindicated _them. As long as he stood at the top by the end, then his path was never wrong.

And so Giorno Giovanna pulled himself along the ground, he crawled through the dirt like a wounded animal. But finally, he escaped his grasped freedom once more with his own hands. But he was nearing the end, if he hid and conserved his mana, he might be able to last a few more days, but that was unacceptable.

He needed a Master.

* * *

When Kirei Kotomine returned to his senses, the Servant Archer was gone from his sight. No matter, he would fade away soon enough. He picked his scattered black keys from the ground, returning them to their hiding places within his frock.

Wasting no more time, the priest summoned a golem to his side, commanding it to retrieve his former master's body. With this, Caster should be able to create it, his ultimate golem. A twisted smile spread across his face as he thought of the destruction the beast would unleash.

Now all that remained was to settle things with Kiritsugu Emiya. He no longer needed answers from the man, but he still felt drawn to him for some unknown reason. Likewise, the Einzberns possessed the vessel for the grail, so if he wanted to take it for himself, he would have to face him eventually.

Kirei followed behind the golem carrying his dead master's body, quickly heading back to his Servant. After finally realizing what was broken inside of him, he had quickly accepted it, and the feeling of freedom that followed was euphoric.

No longer pretending to be something he wasn't, no more hiding from his true desires, he was free. There was only one thing he wanted in this world, and he intended to use his Servant's power and the grail to achieve it. What Kirei Kotomine wanted… was destruction.

To cause agony and torment to the world, that was his one true desire. When he wife had passed away he had been overwhelmed by sadness, but not for the reason he should have been. He was upset that he hadn't been the one to kill her, a mistake he no longer intended to make.

And the first step to realizing this wish was the completion of Caster's unfinished Noble Phantasm, the Golem Keter Malkuth, something that Caster had not even been able to do in his original lifetime. With its power and Archer out of the way, he could win. Even without the Grail, the power of the golem itself would be enough to wreck havoc throughout Fuyuki city.

Kirei arrived at his destination without issue, but it wasn't the warehouse Caster used as his golem creating factory. The warehouse lacked both the space to construct the golem as well as a suitable ley line to power the ritual. Their new base, an old theatre in the middle of the city, had both. In fact, the ley line was strong enough to support the summoning of the Grail; he need only bring the vessel here.

Kirei entered the underground parking lot of the theatre, where Caster stood waiting. Without a word he looked over Tokiomi's body, after examining it he nodded and turned back to his work. In the center of the room stood an enormous vat of water, and floating in that artificial lake was a golem unlike any of the others.

It was huge, far bigger than the others, with a body that hardly looked mechanical. It was Keter Malkuth, a copy of the First Man, it was Adam. Caster's trump card, its activation could change the course of the war, shifting things in their favor with ease. But they lacked a suitable living magus to use as a core; he had intended to capture Tokiomi for such a purpose, but the interference of Archer had forced his hand.

Despite it's status as a recreation of the first man, Kirei couldn't see anything resembling a human in its monstrous form.

"The Vessel…" Caster spoke to Kirei, not turning away from his work. "The Einzbern have it, yes? How will you retrieve it?"

"While Saber maneuvers to corner the remaining servants, I'll slip past their defenses and seize it."

That was the end of their conversation, Caster was clearly eager to finish his Noble Phantasm, and Kirei had work to do. He quickly left the Servant to his work, his movements barely making any sound as he slipped out of the building.

Kirei Kotomine waited, observing the entrance to the Einzbern forest. He was perfectly still, so much so that unless you were specifically looking for him you wouldn't ever notice his presence. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, someone left the forest.

This was too perfect, both the Einzbern Servant Saber, and their hired muscle Kiritsugu Emiya had emerged. The war was nearing its end, so there was no point holding back with their trump cards any more. Indeed, they looked ready to finish this battle tonight, it was about time.

The Priest slipped into the trees as soon as they left, running silently through the forest. He need only retrieve the vessel, and then keep Saber distracted long enough for Caster's Noble Phantasm to be completed. How he would do that remained to be seen, perhaps he could play her against rider?

There were no signs of defenses as he approached the castle, were they really foolish enough to leave their base unguarded? No, more likely they had concentrated their efforts on the inside. He drew four black keys in his left hand, his limit for simultaneous throws, and pushed open the small side door he had come across.

Immediately he stopped, his heightened senses warning him of danger. Peering down, he saw a thin, almost invisible wire running across the open doorway. What a primitive method of defense unsuitable for the aristocratic Einzbern, it must be the work of the Magus Killer.

Kirei easily stepped over the crude trap, keeping a lookout for any more. But he made his way inside easily enough, not even the Magus Killer would boobytrap the main halls of his own base.

He crept through the castle, a predator on the hunt. Fully exploring the first floor and finding nothing, he began to climb the stairs in the main entrance. A shadow moving in the corner of his eye was all it took for him to react. He dove to the left, avoiding a hail of gunfire from the second floor balcony.

The source of the fire was a young woman with short black hair, the barrel of her sub machinegun still smoldering from the volley. Kotomine had encountered her once before, at the site of the building collapse that was likely the Magus Killer's doing. Aside from a well trained body, she was nothing special, had she not run away before he could have easily killed her.

He threw his four black keys in an arc, before starting into a dash up the stairs. The woman dodged the blades, firing another burst of gunfire towards him. Kirei leapt, clearing the final stretch of steps like it was nothing. He landed in a roll and came back to his feet with more black keys in his hand, dashing towards her.

She jumped back, her gun roaring as she fired it with abandon. But none of the bullets even managed to scratch him, as he deftly evaded them all. With a flick of his wrist, he sent his black keys flying into her body. She was thrown back by the force of the impact, the blades pinning her against the wall. Two stuck her in the abdomen and one went straight through her right hand, completely incapacitating her.

He slowly approached her, drawing a final blade. She was nothing but a pawn, unnecessary for his goals. But at least she would be able to serve as a minor distraction, though he found her reactions to suffering quite dull. He raised his blade and prepared to plunge it into her eye.

"Stay away from her!" A woman's voice from behind him slowed his blade, he bag to turn around when something heavy hit him from the side, sending him crashing into the wall. "I won't let you hurt Maiya!"

The newcomer's words were tough, but Kirei could tell she was all talk. The silver haired woman with red eyes, who Tokiomi had originally thought to be the Einzbern Master, was standing before him. Well, standing was a bit of an overstatement, she was leaning against a part of the railing, panting heavily. Around one hand she held a mass of silver wires, likely what she had struck him with.

Her hair and eyes gave her away as an Einzbern homunculus, an artificial human. But as for the strain her body was under, the priest could only guess. However, before he could wonder any longer, the wires she controlled sprang to life, wrapping themselves around his hands, locking them behind his back.

Kotomine kicked off the floor, soaring over the woman and landing effortlessly behind her. With a sweep, he knocked her to the ground; he followed this by placing his foot on her neck. He took a deep breath, and flexed his muscles to their extremes, and slowly but surely, the wires snapped.

Kirei, still keeping her pinned, bent over her prone body. She was a magus, and Homunculi of Einzbern make are known for being quite powerful, if perhaps her current health issues could be resolve… she might work as a temporary core.

Reaching out his hand towards her, he saw her flinch at his movements. The anger in her eyes almost made him hesitate, did she know how broken he was just by looking at him? He pushed the thought aside and placed his hand on her body. While he wasn't a master magus by any stretch of the imagination, in his studies he had found a somewhat ironic talent for spiritual healing.

As he examined the woman, a smile crept across his face, this was better than he could hope for. She would work as the core, for one very unique reason, this woman _was_ the Holy Grail. For whatever reason, the vessel for the Grail in this war was implanted in her body.

He picked her up, her body too weak to give much of a struggle. Her desperate attack against him had obviously been the last of her strength. The other woman, who had been called Maiya, still struggled to free herself from her crucifixion, but Kirei left her alive, she was of no consequence.

He had come for the grail, and gained a core for the golem along with it. As soon as he returned, he would have Caster begin the activation ritual. The end was drawing near, and all of his pieces were nearly in play. Soon, he would have what he desired.

Absolute destruction.

* * *

Every step he took caused his vision to flicker, but the darkness would close in even if he did nothing. This was the end, for a man who had fought with everything he had, against all odds, he couldn't see victory at the end of his road any longer.

Giorno Giovanna fell against the wall of the alley he was currently struggling through, his legs barely able to keep him upright. He should have died long ago, but his body refused to fade. It was nothing short of his own willpower, his 'resolve' that allowed him to keep going, beyond even his limits as a Servant.

But even he had started to grow weary, part of him just wanted to give in, to let the darkness of death consume him once more. It wouldn't be so bad; he had already died once after all. But in the end, he wanted to _live_. His wish at this moment in time was not to reunite with his friends, to return to his world. No, all he wanted was to survive just a little longer.

And his wish was granted, though not in the way he would have initially wanted it to. It seemed like whatever twist of fate that allowed him to even be summoned into this world had intervened again. The odds of finding a magus, let alone one who could serve as a master, before he died were astronomically slim. But there he was, lying against the same wall Giorno braced himself on:

Kariya Matou.

His enemy, the master of the mad dog that had given him so much trouble and the self proclaimed enemy of his Master Tokiomi. He should have died days ago, but the loss of Berserker had evidently reduced the strain on his body enough for him to survive until now. They were in much the same condition; both would die soon enough if nothing was done, but together…

The dying magus looked up at the sound of Giorno's approach. The light in his eyes was nearly gone, he wouldn't last another hour. The man coughed, blood spewing out of his mouth and down his chin, reinforcing his status as near death.

"Come... to kill a helpless wretch? That bastard Master of yours… he put you up to this?" Kariya struggled to speak, his voice weaker with each word.

"I have not come as your enemy, I require your help," Giorno knelt down in front of the man, leaning in close enough for the dying man to see his own condition. "Tokiomi had perished at the hands of another Master, sorry to deprive you of your revenge. So I am now a Servant with no Master, and you a Master with no Servant, do you understand my purpose now?"

Kariya spat at Giorno, though his saliva was barely more than blood at this point. Looks like negotiations were off to a bad start.

"I understand, Tokiomi was your enemy, but I am _not_ Tokiomi," Giorno reached out his hand towards the magus, his movements showing no hostility. "You still want the Grail, I can see it in your eyes, I will get it for you."

"What difference… will it make? I…I won't last very long…"

"Right now I can do nothing, but with access to your mana reserves, I may be able to heal your body. Even if I can't, you lose nothing. You stand to only gain from this alliance, either you survive and win the war, or you die as you are now. "

The alley fell silent, only the distant sound of the occasional car disturbed the quiet scene. Kariya went deep into thought, obviously still hesitant. Giorno didn't blame him; they had been enemies up until now. Finally, after his deliberation, Kariya spoke.

"Let thy body… rest under my dominion…" through pained breaths, he began to recite the ritual, scribing a rough magic circle in his own blood with his only functional hand. "Let my fate… rest in thy blade, if thou agree to this bond…"

"I accept, my new Master," without hesitation, Giorno allowed Kariya's spell in. The words themselves, the magic circle, they were mere formalities. Technically, only the feeling of the spell was needed, the ritual only made the form of the spell easier to form in one's mind.

Giorno felt the power begin to flow into him, it was weaker than Tokiomi's mana by far, but it was enough to survive. He placed his hand on Kariya's body, calling forth the golden light of his Stand. Saving his new master was a higher priority than his own body, which would recover itself now that he had a Master.

Kariya's body convulsed in pain as his Stand power ran through it, healing the human body was never the intention of his ability, merely a side effect. It made the process… less than pleasant for the one on the receiving end.

Giorno repaired what he could with his current level of energy, stabilizing the magus for a time. Concurringly, the source of his agony, several magical worms running wild in his body, appeared to be immune to his healing efforts. He could repair the damage they caused, but they would damage his body again in time, it was no solution to the problem.

His new master, passed out from the pain of the healing, seemed to be somewhat more at peace in his sleep then before. Giorno could rest easy now, and he did, returning to spiritual form. After a good night's rest, he should be able to fully heal himself and be ready for the final battle.

What a strange destiny, siding with his former Master's enemy in order to get revenge for said former Master. He of course did not need to tell Kariya his intentions, and he didn't plan on it either. This was just a means to an end, a necessary act to survive; it wasn't as if he had actually betrayed Tokiomi… unlike that damn priest.

But still, he didn't trust Kariya not to do something impulsive, like force him to commit suicide with his command spells. When the two awoke, he would have to have a long discussion with him and make sure they truly fought on the same side, at least for the time being.

The road ahead would be difficult, but he would find a way, he always found a way.

* * *

The red headed giant of a man stepped over the fallen body of yet another Golem, heading deeper into the building. His master had tracked Caster to a warehouse at the edge of town, and they had come to challenge him. The young magus who called himself Rider's master, Waver Velvet, walked timidly behind his Servant as they breached the enemy stronghold.

But, after searching the entire place, it appeared to have been abandoned. A strange tactic for a magus, leaving one's territory was highly unlike them. Was it possible that Caster had detected their approach and fled? No, it seems to have been emptied of all but a few golems left to guard it. More likely than not, the golems were there to inform Caster when his old base was discovered rather than truly defend it.

"I can't say I'm surprised, running and hiding seems to be this Servant's go to plan," Rider turned to his Master, his eyes showing his disappointment. "However, we should still destroy this base, if only to be on the safe side of things."

Waver nodded his approval, but quickly halted Rider with a hand motion. He walked over to a table at the corner of the room, piled high with various scraps of paper. He picked up a rolled piece of parchment and unfurled it, his eyes snapping open in shock.

"R-Rider… this is bad, really bad!" His hands were shaking, so much so he nearly ripped the paper in two. As a magus himself, he finally understood why Caster had been so quiet during the war; he had been busy with this. Waver rolled the parchment up and grabbed more of the Servant's notes. "W-We need to find Caster's new base, like right now!"

"Oh? What could have been written there that's got my Master so terrified?" Rider followed Waver out of the building, the smaller of the two rushing back to Rider's chariot. "Come now, if you don't tell me what it is how will I prepare for it?"

Waver knelt on the chariot, franticly looking through the papers. Finally, he let out a pained sigh and turned to his Servant.

"They're designs, designs for a golem unlike anything I've seen before".

"That's it? I've defeated hundreds, possibly thousands of Caster's dolls by now, what would make you think I can't handle this one?" Rider flexed his muscles to emphasize his strength, a grin spreading across his face.

"This one isn't like the others, Rider, if he completes this you wouldn't even be able to call it a golem anymore," Waver continued to look through the papers, trying desperately to find anything that might lead them to Caster's current location. "T-This thing could destroy the entire city if we don't do something about it, o-only a madman would build something like this!"

Rider slapped his massive hand across his Master's back, practically knocking the boy to the ground. His deep voice bellowed through the streets as he burst out laughing, which only served to confuse Waver.

"Is that so? Well then, maybe this damned magician will actually be somewhat entertaining to fight!"

Rider took hold of his chariot's reins and prepared to take to the skies, when a distant explosion rocked the ground where they stood. The two could only imagine what had caused it, but their new destination was now clear.

"How much you want to bet that's our target, Master!" His words were not a question, and his tone carried with it his excitement at the thought of the upcoming battle. "Let us go, and show them our might!"

The chariot raced through the night sky, leaving a trail of lightning in its wake. If one didn't know better, they might think Zeus himself had descended upon the battlefield. As they soared to the source of the explosion, they caught sight of the unfolding battle.

A small woman clad in azure armor stood against a sea of constructs, her blade flashing under the moonlight with each swing. The golems were nothing against her, but their numbers were still a problem. Rider redirected his mount, crashing his chariot through the most recent wave of golems and coming to a stop in front of her.

"We have to stop meeting like this, Saber, I cannot always come to your aid!" Rider leapt from his chariot, drawing his blade against a charging golem. He easily cut it down with a single swing, before thrusting his sword into a second construct.

The two Servants fought off the horde in silence, until finally the attack ceased for a brief moment, the golems retreating. Whatever Caster was planning, Rider would be ready. Surely his Master was only exaggerating, how much damage could one golem cause anyways?

"Rider, I don't understand your insistence on interrupting my battles, can you not find an enemy of your own to battle?" Saber made no effort to hide the annoyance in her voice, letting out an exasperated sigh clearly aimed towards Rider. "I had this fight under control."

Simultaneously, both Rider and Saber tensed up, a huge surge of mana from the building before them warming them of impending danger. The ground rumbled, and for a moment it seemed as though the theatre would collapse. The ground at their feet started to crack open, and a massive hand burst through the dirt and concrete.

The huge golem, nearly fifty feet tall, broke through the surface of the ground. Energy sparked around it, releasing arcs of lightning that struck out at the surroundings with each of its movements. Everywhere it touched warped and changed, a field around it altering the world at a base level.

"A Reality Marble?!' Saber grasped her sword tightly, but her arms wouldn't stop shaking. Something about the golem before them was different, it was no mere construct, it seemed… alive.

With each step it took, the golem repainted the world with its Reality Marble, twisting it into a hideous corruption of what it used to be.

"S-Something's wrong, that isn't what these plans say… it's supposed to recreate Eden," Waver, despite his fear, had not retreated. Instead, he looked over Caster's notes, trying to figure out why this was happening. "R-Rider, be careful! That _thing_ isn't the same as the plans; I have no idea what it's capable of!"

With a nod, Rider stepped forward, refusing to back down against such a foe. So what if the golem was bigger than normal, or possessed a reality marble of some kind? He would fight it the same as anything, it was just another foe in the path of his _conquest!_

The world behind Rider shuddered, the landscape slowly repainting into a desert plain. If this thing wants to rewrite the world to it's advantage, then he just had to veto the change with his own!

It was clear from the way it moved and looked, that the golem was incomplete. Caster must have rushed out the final product due to a lack of time, for it was not quite the perfect creation he had intended. But it was still a formidable creation, possessing the basics of its power. For every hour it was active, it would nearly double in size and strength, and so long as it stood atop Eden, it possessed unlimited mana. Even if Caster were to die, the golem would persist until it was destroyed.

Rider stood against the titanic golem, his arms crossed over his chest. His cloak flowed in the unnatural winds called forth by his Noble Phantasm, his army appearing behind him like a mirage. Due to his Master lacking the raw mana output to support it, rider had to use his own reserves to summon forth his Reality Marble, this would likely be the last time he could use it in this war.

As if to challenge him directly, Caster's army of normal golems reappeared, marching mechanically behind the massive creature. The Reality Marble which should have painted the world as paradise warped and twisted its surroundings into a hellish landscape. But the corruption also seemed to affect the golem itself, with every moment it became more and more altered, more monstrous.

Rider's army surged forth, and the golems met his charge. Normally, his army would easily outmatch them, but not today. The massive golem Keter Malkuth easily annihilated large portions of his army with each of its savage blows. When his followers died, his control of his Reality Marble wavered, for they were maintaining it along with him.

Keter Malkuth's reality clashed with Rider's, each attempting to overwrite the other. Whichever marble fell first would determine the victor, and Rider's power was waning. But still he fought on, even if it seemed hopeless. His army battled their way through the horde of smaller golems and stuck against their main target, only to be crushed like insects by its power.

The Master of Rider, Waver Velvet, normally frozen in terror, stood up and faced the battle. He raised his shaking hand, and with the most resolve he could pull together, yelled his final command to his Servant.

"Rider! Win, you have to win!" His command spells lit up, the young magus's determination using all three of them at once. The power contained within the markings was enough to be considered a minor miracle, and so Waver prayed for one. The power flowed from the spells to Rider, augmenting his strength.

That was how big a threat this monster was, Waver knew that holding back here would only lead to them all getting slaughtered. He threw away his rights as a Master to give them even a slight edge against Caster's ultimate golem.

Rider climbed back into his chariot, grabbing hold of the reins with one hand and holding out the other towards Saber. He turned to her, his playful expression replaced with the steel resolve of a warrior.

"Come, Saber! Ride with me against this foe!" He motioned for her to join him on the chariot, but she remained motionless. Rider's actions were quite incomprehensible, to the end he was unable to see her as an enemy despite their positions, how could he continue to treat her as an ally?

"Very well, I'll lend you my sword arm, if nothing more than to repay you for your previous assistance," Saber leapt onto the back of the chariot as she spoke, she held her blade out over the side, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

They took off, rocketing through the air with the heroic swiftness of a demigod. Rider focused completely on controlling their movements, for a single mistake would be their end. Saber was left to offense, slashing at the great golem whenever she got the chance.

They dashed around it, swerving under or over its attacks. It wasn't a particularly skilled opponent, its movements were slow and clunky, and each time it extended its limbs it seemed to suffer damage. Was it from the golem's incomplete nature, or the unknown cause of its unnatural corruption that caused it?

Saber cut her blade along its arm, but it barely made an impact against the golem's thick armor-like skin. It retaliated, swinging its huge fist towards them. Rider yanked the reins back, forcing the bulls that pulled his chariot to head straight up. The golem's swing displaced the air with such force it created gust of wind on the level of a hurricane, but they managed to remain flying.

"Now this is what I've been waiting for!" Rider laughed atop his thundering mount, a fire burning in his eyes. "A fight worthy of Heroes, worthy of Kings!"

The final battle of the fourth Holy Grail War had begun.

* * *

It had only been a single day since he had formed his new contract with Kariya, if he could choose he would have rested longer, but the other participants in the war wouldn't allow it. The three other remaining teams all moved to checkmate the others, and if he waited any longer he might miss the showdown.

Thankfully, his rate of recovery was high, even for a Servant, and his strength had almost completely returned. With Kariya as his Master he would never reach the same heights as he could under Tokiomi, but his existence was stable for the time being.

More worrying than his abilities degrading under the Matou magus was Kariya's inability to fully supply the mana needed to use his ultimate Noble Phantasm, Gold Experience Requiem. Giorno would have to supplement it with his own power, leaving him with a limited number of times he could draw it out. By his estimate, he could use it at most three more times, and that was assuming he didn't exhaust his power using his normal Stand abilities.

He was on a timer, plain and simple. From now on he was fighting both against the other Servants, and his own dwindling resources. Giorno also couldn't help but worry that his power might be too stressful for his current Master's body to handle, Kariya could outright die if he used his requiem, and he wouldn't know until he tried.

Giorno clenched his fist in frustration; things had been going so well, now his plans had fallen apart. All because of that priest, that damned traitor. Back in his original world, he wouldn't tolerate betrayal. If he got the chance during the final battle, he would show Kotomine what the Boss did with turncoats.

He stood up from his chair and walked across the room. His current base was a significant step down from the Tohsaka manor, consisting of little more than a single room on the bottom floor of an abandoned hotel. They couldn't afford to be picky, as empty properties they could squat in were few and far between. Giorno looked over to his Master, who sat against the wall, gazing out of the single window.

"Are you well enough now, Master?" Giorno's face showed no concern for the magus, and his tone was as cold as ever. "I have no doubt that the fighting will start again soon, will you be able to hold out through it?"

As if to answer the question, Kariya pulled himself off the floor and stood up. His body was clearly in no shape to be moving around, but he seemed to have taken a few steps away from death's door thanks to Giorno's help. His hair was still white, but his blind eye had returned to normal, and he no longer writhed in agony with each movement.

This would all change however, when Giorno began to fight. Using his Stand would drain the Matou of mana, and cause the enchanted worms inside of him to awaken and rampage through his flesh. But Kariya had chosen this path of his own free will, and Giorno would honor his decision. While Giorno would not personally throw his life away as Kariya had, he respected the man's resolve in surviving this far.

The floor shook violently, and Giorno turned his head to the window, seeing a bright explosion in the distance. That was his signal, the others had begun, it was time for him to begin.

"Stay here, Master, I'll be back with the Grail," Giorno moved to leave the room, when a hand grabbed him by the shoulder.

"No, I'm coming with you," Kariya's voice was strained, but he tried his best not to sound weak. The look in his eyes told Giorno everything he needed to know, he wouldn't back down from this. "If I have to use a command spell, I will. We do this together, or not at all."

"I can't guarantee your safety once the fighting starts, but I have no objections to your support."

Kariya nodded and silently left the room, no longer dragging himself across the ground as if he was a shambling corpse. Giorno wasn't sure why he chose to come, maybe it was his pride? Or perhaps, he still didn't trust his new Servant. Either way Giorno would accept this, having a Master who willingly fought with him was far more his speed, as opposed to Tokiomi's decision to wait and watch.

Giorno's mind was steel, his every thought tuned to the battle ahead. With his Master at his side he finally felt like he was going to war, a feeling similar to his old life. Kariya was a far cry from his friends in his universe, but he would take what he could get. Giorno followed his master out of the hotel room, choosing to walk by his side as if they were equals.

They crept along the back alleys, avoiding any path that made them easy to see. With any luck, they could arrive without a fight. As the two made their way towards the theatre that had become the center of the war, the symphony of battle grew ever louder. Giorno's muscles tensed in anticipation of an attack, the air heavy with killing intent. He held his arm out, stopping his Master's advance.

A silver flash shot through the air towards them, but Giorno's enhanced reflexes easily intercepted it. His fist slammed into the thrown blade, shattering it completely. The blade was, unmistakably, a Black Key. How fortunate that the first opponent to show himself was the one he wished to fight most.

Giorno would pay him back for everything he's done; he would avenge his former Master and then he would be able to move forward. He strode out in front of Kariya and looked off into the darkness.

"Kotomine, do you really think you can fight a Servant at full power?" addressing his hidden assailant, Giorno Giovanna posed in his usual manner. "Last time was a fluke, a one time situation you no longer have."

Kirei Kotomine jumped down from his hiding spot and left the shadows. Between his fingers he held three more Black Keys loosely. The look on his face was nothing like it had been previously, even in its current neutral expression, Giorno could see the man's malice seeping through.

"We'll see about that, Archer…" Kirei entered a combat stance, his hand prepared to launch the keys. "Besides, I don't need to defeat you; I'm only stalling for time."

As soon as Kirei threw the volley of blades Giorno moved, dashing towards the priest. His hands flashed gold as he deflected the blades to the side, the attack not even slowing him down. Putting all of his strength behind it, he pulled back his fist and unleashed a powerful blow.

The gilded fist cut through the air faster than Kotomine's eyes could follow, crashing into his stomach. He was pushed back, his feet skidding across the street. But the priest remained standing against the Servant's attack, much to Giorno's surprise. Was he even weaker than he thought now? No, something had changed in Kirei.

Giorno had learned a few bits and pieces of information about the system this world knew as 'magic', mostly from looking over Tokiomi's texts in the downtime between battles. It was likely that Kotomine was employing some kind of spell to enhance his own body, though Giorno had no knowledge of which.

Kotomine rushed back in, not drawing any blades however, and punched Giorno. The unexpected nature of this counterattack caused Giorno to falter, and he failed to even attempt a dodge. Giorno was knocked back, crashing through a row of nearby trashcans.

Kariya had begun preparing a spell, but he had no chance to use it for Kirei had already closed the gap between them. With an elbow strike he sent the magus to the floor before drawing a black key from inside of his vestments.

"Muda!" Giorno knocked the blade out of Kirei's hands with a blazingly fast kick, spinning in mid air to strike him with a second. Giorno had been caught off guard, not expecting Kotomine to be such a skilled martial artist, but he wouldn't let it happen again.

Kotomine grabbed Giorno's leg mid strike, dragging him forward into a punch from his other hand. Giorno was unaffected by the strike, easily breaking the grapple and landing back on his feet. He swept at Kotomine's feet with a fast low kick, but the priest evaded.

Giorno was by far the stronger of the two fighters, but his lack of skill was apparent. He was in no way a master hand to hand combatant. It was in this way what Kotomine could match him, his mastery of his style of combat was so high, so well honed, that his raw power no longer mattered. Combined with magecraft, and he became a powerful foe for the currently weakened Servant.

The two attacked and blocked, countered, parried, and deflected each other blows continuously in a flurry of movement. Neither one gained the upper hand, it was a complete stalemate. Giorno could break it quickly with his Stand powers, but using them now would limit his ability to call them later against the other Servants, he couldn't waste them now.

"I have the advantage, Archer," Kotomine backed off for a moment and spoke, his tone more arrogant then it was normally. "I can attack freely, while you have to defend that Master of yours!"

With his words, he threw out eight Black Keys, aimed towards the Matou Master behind Giorno. The flamboyant Servant unleashed a flurry of fists, destroying the blades before they reached Kariya. But that was what Kotomine was waiting for, the priest ran alongside the blades, taking advantage of Giorno's distraction to get behind him.

"..!" He had no time to react before the priest knocked his feet out from under him and slammed him into the ground with a strike to the chest. He bounced off the asphalt road with a painful crack, and Kotomine kicked him back down against it.

Amazingly, this man had turned the fight completely in his favor despite facing down a Servant. Admittedly, Giorno was holding back the getter majority of his power, but it was nonetheless an impressive feat. The golden haired Servant stood up, dusting off his suit with one hand; he looked up and locked eyes with Kotomine.

"Come, Kotomine, let's finish this!" Giorno raised his fists once more, and the priest answered his challenge. The long final night of the holy grail war was just getting started.


	8. Chapter 7: Beginnings

He should have achieved his dream then, his ultimate creation was finished by his own hands, but he didn't have the feeling of fulfillment he was looking for. No, he felt even emptier than before, for it had all been for naught. All his effort, all of the time spent on it, and this was the result?

Keter Malkuth was supposed to be the perfect recreation of the first man, Adam. With each step, it should have spread its world, Eden. So why, why was this happening? Had he rushed its construction too much, or was there another problem? The Servant Caster, his expression hidden behind his mask, pondered what had gone wrong.

For the creation before him was a twisted and horrible creature, it was a monster like none he had ever seen. With each step its body broke down, the wild energy inside of it too much for it to contain. Each step it advanced into the world, invading Gaia with its reality marble, but what spread out before him was not Eden.

The nightmare that expanded from the golem could be described as none other than Hell itself. The ground turned to ash under its feet, blazing fires raced across the landscape, consuming everything in their path.

"What manner of abomination have I birthed into this plane..?" Caster's question was left unanswered, for he was alone in his workshop. His only hope now was the other Servants, for the corrupted Keter Malkuth was now completely out of his control.

The Core was an Einzbern Homunculus who doubled as the vessel for the Grail, so it's mana should be pure, but he had no other explanation for what had gone wrong. He hadn't planned for such a great output of magical energy, which explained the wild bursts that destroyed his creation from the inside. But the darkness, that was something he couldn't explain easily. Unless, the Grail itself was corrupted by this same darkness… perhaps it was a good thing he had no wish for it grant after all.

Caster's Master, Kirei Kotomine, had to have been aware of the state the Grail was in when he presented it to him to use as the core. Damn that priest, did he want this to happen?! Caster had been aware of the broken nature of his Master for quite some time, but he had ignored it for it only served to help his own work. In many ways, they were alike; both of them cared for nothing outside of their base desires. But Caster wished to create something, and it seemed his master only truly felt alive when he committed destructive acts.

Caster closed his eyes and knelt down on the floor, he couldn't do anything at this point. The conclusion of this war, and the fate of the modern world, was out of his hands. Even if he died, the golem would continue to rampage, for as long as it stood upon 'Eden' it was unstoppable.

Even if all of the other servants combined their strength, it might not be enough. And the longer it remained activated, the more powerful it would become, and the larger it would grow. What was meant as Adam was now something else entirely, yes, he had created the ultimate evil.

The Devil had awoken.

* * *

A black corruption oozed from the cracks in the Golem's body, burning everything it came in contact with. There was no exception; this Noble Phantasm had become something that could do nothing but destroy.

Rider's army fought valiantly against the tide of golems, but with each loss, his Reality Marble weakened. The only thing allowing them to even scratch Keter Malkuth was the fact that his Ionioi Hetairoi managed to weaken the effect of the golem's own Reality Marble.

Riding behind him on his flying chariot, the Servant of the Sword readied for her next attack. Saber took her sword in both hands, and without hesitation leapt out of the chariot. Landing on the shoulder of the massive golem, she rushed towards its head, blade ready to strike.

"Haahh!" She lunged at the golem, cutting a deep arc into its hard skin with a single slash. Kicking off, she aimed her fall towards Rider's chariot. There was no margin for error, but the Servant of the Sword executed her acrobatic maneuver flawlessly.

"Don't get too reckless on me now, we're in this together!" Rider laughed, pulling back the reins of his chariot to steer away from the golem's counterattack. "But, If we keep this up, we can seize victory!"

"Rider, Can you keep it distracted?" Saber's question carried a weight more closely resembling a command then anything else, and before he even had a chance to answer her, she jumped from the back of the chariot.

The azure knight landed gracefully on the ground below them, as if the great height of the fall had been nothing to her. Taking her sword in both hands, she pointed the blade towards the giant golem. The enchanted wind that hid its form began to whip wildly around her, becoming a storm that blew away any nearby golems and Rider's own soldiers.

Understanding her intention right away, Rider drove his chariot up, crashing past the golem's face. He flew around the construct like an annoying insect, thoroughly capturing the golem's attention. It attempted to hit him again and again, but he avoided the blows.

On the ground, Saber's mana surged into her blade, its golden form appearing from within the maelstrom of winds. Rider was putting everything into this fight, so it was only logical that she follow suit. But would her Noble Phantasm be enough to break through this monster's defenses? None of their attacks had managed to even slow it down in the slightest yet.

It was an attack that would determine the outcome of this battle, if it failed to stop this titanic opponent… there was nothing more they could do. Saber raised her sword over her head, the blade glowing from the immense energy within it. Just a little bit more power and she could unleash the full fury of her Noble Phantasm.

Rider pulled back on his chariot's reins, but this time his reactions were a fraction of a second slower than they needed to be. In any other fight, this margin of error would go unnoticed, but not in a battle of this proportion. A true battle of heroes and monsters had no room for the slightest mistake, and Rider paid for it.

The golem Keter Malkuth's fist smashed through Rider's chariot with ease, obliterating that which allowed his summoning into his Class, and throwing the Servant across the battlefield. The King of Conquerors' Reality Marble faltered, and the Golem's began to overtake it.

There was no time left, it was now or never. Saber braced her body, taking a wider stance, and threw her sword into a downward slash.

"Excalibur!"

With her cry, the mana stored within the blade exploded forth, an incredibly blade of light that split open the sky with its force. The golden energy washed over the battlefield, annihilating the lesser golems with ease. It was an anti-fortress class Noble Phantasm capable of defeating a thousand men at once, and yet… it wasn't enough.

The Golem remained unharmed; its approach into the city was not slowed at all. It was impossible; nothing should come out of that blast unharmed. Saber stared in complete shock at the hulking construct, unable to move a muscle against its overwhelming presence.

"Not even the Sword of Promised Victory can defeat it, huh? My Master was right to worry," Rider gasped through pained breaths, dragging himself to his feet from the wreckage of his chariot. By all rights he shouldn't even be standing after taking that attack, but his resolve as a hero allowed him to push past his mortal limits.

Blood ran down his face, clouding his vision in red. It was a hopeless battle, they had not the strength necessary to defeat the enemy before them, but still he walked forward. He drew his sword and climbed onto his horse once again, for the last time in the war.

His army was shattered, only a fraction of the forces remained standing, but those who still drew breath continued to follow their King. Only Saber remained behind, unable to face the reality before her.

He raised his sword, and with a cry, his army charged once more. With each stride of his horse, his Reality Marble broke down more, unable to maintain itself against the golem's own. The sandy dunes around him returned to the shattered remains of the modern city, only to be twisted by the corrupted Keter Malkuth's inner world.

Saber couldn't understand, how did he press forward without fear? He should know very well that he was outclassed, but he didn't give in. Was this… was this the 'strength' Archer had spoken of? No, that arrogant Servant didn't know a thing about strength; he was just spouting meaningless words.

But still, she couldn't deny how powerless she felt, only able to stand and watch the tragedy before her unfold. Nothing had changed since she had lived; it was happening again, she was too weak to save anyone. Before she even realized it, she had fallen to her knees, and her sword had slipped from her fingers. Unbecoming of her stoic image, tears rolled down her face, but she couldn't stop them.

But still, Rider advanced. He rushed towards his impending death without hesitation, because it was the only thing he could do. Even if it was hopeless, he would march on, towards his dream.

The golem swung its massive fist down, the shockwave alone crushing half of his remaining army. The inner world he created along with his men could take no more, and the illusion was shattered completely. All that remained was the golem's ever creeping darkness, now free to spread across the land.

The few remaining soldiers faded away, unable to hold their forms any longer. Even his horse Bucephalus, loyal even in death, could no longer fight alongside him. The Servant looked up at the giant before him, even his unreal size dwarfed by the golem. The mightiest of heroes from Macedonia, descended from Zeus himself, stood unwavering against the seemingly invincible foe before him.

"Uuurraaah!" he leapt towards the golem with a roar, his sword poised to strike. But his blade never made contact with the monstrous construct; he was stuck down with a single blow.

Keter Malkuth had the power to turn the tide of the Holy Grail War, a strength that not only rivaled, but exceeded the heroic spirits it faced. Against such a foe, it was a miracle they had lasted as long as they had, but it was the end of the road.

His body broken, Rider fell to the ground behind Saber, having been hurled past her by the golem's fist. Unlike before however, Rider did not stand, he did not continue to struggle against his fate.

"Ri… der?" Waver Velvet, the master of Rider in this Holy Grail War, left his hiding place behind an abandoned car, and walked towards the prone servant. "H-hey, what are you doing, you idiot?"

The teenager was on the verge of tears, though how much of that was his fear of the battle itself was unclear. He walked over to Rider's body, slowing down with each step as if he knew what he'd find out when he reached him.

"T-This is no time to be goofing off, you good for nothing Servant!" Waver clenched his fist, tears continuing to well up in his eyes. "I told you to win; you have to obey the command spells, so you have to win! Rider… so get back up, get up and beat that thing!"

But his demands weren't answered; the man did not rise back up. At this moment, Waver would have given anything to see him stand up again, to hear his bellowing laughter, but it would never come to be.

The King of Conquerors would not reach his dream, unable to defeat the last foe at the end of his long road; his body slowly began to fade away. No longer able to hold it in, Waver collapsed to his hands and knees, the sound of his sobbing filling the now strangely quiet world.

The Servant Rider had died.

* * *

"Muda!" Giorno's cry echoed across the alleyway as he dashed ahead, his fists flying in a blur at his opponent. But the priest turned magus who should by no rights have the ability to stand against a Servant blocked each blow, promptly leaping away from the flurry before Giorno could change his tactics.

Kotomine couldn't expect to win, but he knew that. This was all a stalling tactic, no doubt buying time for his trump card to increase in power. The longer that golem was active, the stronger it became. Giorno knew the powers of Caster's Noble Phantasm, having read Kotomine's reports to his former Master. He didn't have much time, but he struggled to advance against the priest.

"I'm disappointed, the way Tokiomi talked about you," Kirei Kotomine almost laughed; a sadistic grin on his face. "I expected you to be a bit more… impressive_,_ though I suppose this is more _his_ fault than anything."

Giorno's speed increased, he rushed at Kotomine again, a golden light enveloping his clenched fist. He wouldn't stand for anyone insulting his Master, even if it was Kariya Matou. Kirei's disrespect had to end, first Tokiomi, and now this, Giorno would show him his place.

Kotomine sidestepped Giorno's punch, grabbing his arm mid strike and twisting it towards him. He pulled the Servant in, his own fight connecting with Giorno's abdomen. Gritting his teeth, the Servant endured the hit; bring his free hand down in a chop against Kotomine's hold on him.

The fighters broke off again, both stopping a short distance from the other. Giorno had steadily moved towards the raging inferno of battle ahead, but it was still out of his reach. If he took too long, he might not be able to grasp victory. The blaze was large enough that he could feel it even from here, just what kind of hell had Kotomine unleashed?

"Isn't it glorious, Archer?" Kotomine threw his arms out to his side, a single laugh escaping his throat. "All it took was one Master, one betrayal, and the entire city is burning around us!"

"Are you mad, Kotomine?" Giorno's eyes coldly locked onto his opponent, his expression almost as if he was staring through the priest. "What reason could you have to desire this destruction?"

"I wish for it for the same reasons I desired Tokiomi's death, this feeling is like then," Kotomine reached into his coat as he spoke, drawing four black keys with each hand. "Only it's even more enjoyable when amplified this much. I don't need the Grail to grant my wish any longer, it already has!"

He leapt back, throwing his blades with insane speed and precision. Giorno couldn't dodge in time; he had no choice but to use his powers, even though he was trying to conserve his power. The golden light enveloped his body, and the blades all stuck him simultaneously, but they didn't damage him. In that instant, the daggers turned into white doves, all of which scattered into the sky.

Behind him, the sounds of his Master screaming in agony could be heard, but he ignored them. Kariya knew what he was getting into when he made the contract, and the price of Giorno's power was high. He glanced back at the magus, who nodded solemnly, clutching his arm.

"Why do you ally yourself with such a weak partner, Archer?" Kotomine paced towards him, his voice mocking the flamboyant Servant. "I thought you were like me, but your emotionless façade is nothing more than that, a mask you put on, isn't it?"

"I have no reason to answer you, traitor."

"Then come, come and kill me! You're nearly out of time, Archer!"

Giorno wasted no more time and attacked, his blows even more furious than before. His assault tore into the surrounding area, breaking everything in his path in his single minded pursuit of the priest. But Kotomine dodged every blow, whenever he was close to taking a fatal hit, he moved away with a burst of mana similar to how Saber maneuvered, although more crude.

"Is that are you've got? You're barely any stronger than Tokiomi, Archer!"

"Be silent, I've had enough of your voice, traitor!"

Despite pushing him back, Giorno's focus was only on defeating the enemy before him, and not of joining the other Servant's battle against Caster. It didn't show on his face, but his rage towards Kotomine was completely blinding him.

This played right into Kotomine's hands, for he needed to hold Giorno long enough for Keter Malkuth to defeat the other Servants. After Saber fell, even if Giorno fought it, it would be too late to defeat it, only a combined attack from at least two Servants had a chance.

"Muda, muda, muda, muda muda muda mudamudamudamudamudamudamudamuda!" Giorno fists pummeled Kotomine at close to the speed of sound, his wild cry mixing with the sound of his attack, creating a symphony of combat.

But somehow, after the smoke cleared from his flurry, Kotomine was still standing. Blood ran down the side of his face, his vestments were torn, revealing the damage to his body. But even this battered, this broken, Kotomine didn't fall. His training as an Executor for the Church allowed him to ignore almost all pain, and his magically reinforced body equally dulled his senses.

His body was as hard as steel, which made it all the more impressive that Giorno could even hurt him. But the Servant was worse for wear as well, his hands bloodied from rush attack. He could heal them, but he wouldn't waste his remaining power on so trivial an injury.

"I wonder what Tokiomi's daughter is doing right now, does she have any idea what's happened you think?" Kotomine had of course witnessed Giorno's encounter with the girl that night, but the Servant was unfortunately unaware of who she was. But, it did reveal one weakness in his iron mental state; he had a soft spot for children. "Does she know her father is dead, her mother? Is she perhaps out in the city, searching for them in this chaos?"

Kotomine stepped back and reached into his coat again, pulling out a blade. But it wasn't a Black Key, but rather a short dagger with an ornate design. He flicked it into the air, catching it in a reverse grip as it fell.

"Once you've run out of steam and perished, perhaps I'll go search for her," his cold tone carried more weight than if he had showed emotion here, reminding Giorno of himself. Kirei held the dagger up to his face, his eyes positively lighting up with some fell emotion. "It would rather ironic, don't you think? To kill her with the same blade her father gave to me as his apprentice."

It had worked; Giorno fell into his trap once more. His focus on Kotomine narrowed again, and he couldn't even hear the sounds of the final battle in the distance any longer. But Kotomine didn't anticipate just _how_ effective it would be, and he inadvertently awakened something within the Servant.

"Unforgivable…" Giorno's expression darkened and his fist began to shake. His eyes were cast down at the ground, but in an instant they shot back up at the priest; his façade shattered. His cold, emotionless expression was gone, as if it had never been there in the first place. Now all that remained was his true emotions, the face of an enraged Servant. "You are unforgivable, Kotomine!"

The priest readied to counter Giorno's next blow, but he didn't even see it coming. Before he could even blink, he was thrown against a parked car, shattering the windshield. Kotomine narrowly avoided the next blow, flipping back over the car as soon as Giorno landed on the hood with a powerful kick.

Kotomine was quickly backed into a corner, the angered Giorno transforming into a relentless fiend. He threw his arms up, blocking an incoming strike. The force of the blow pushed him back, his feet digging into the ground. A loud snapping sound informed both fighters that his arm had broken.

"WRRRRRRYYYYYYYYY!" Giorno's fist shot forward, accompanied by a guttural cry more like that of a beast than a man. His strike easily passed Kotomine's broken defenses, smashing into his chest with an explosive force comparable to a gunshot.

His ribs shattered as he crashed along the ground, rolling to a stop almost a block away from where he had started. He coughed, blood spilling from his mouth and splattering to the ground. Somehow, he found the strength to stand, but when he looked up Giorno had already caught up with him.

The look on Giorno's face had returned to his calm, statuesque gaze. His rage had lasted only a few moments, and it had already subsided. Now, the Servant looked to be in complete control of the fight, leaving Kirei only one option: to escape.

"It's useless Kotomine," Giorno raised his hand, his open palm facing the sky. With perfect timing, a white dove landed on his outstretched hand. "You've lost, this is checkmate."

Kotomine's eyes darted around him, there were doves surrounding him from all sides, eight of them in total, including the one in Giorno's hand. Kirei knew, he knew how Giorno's power worked quite well, having secretly monitored him from the start. So he knew that he was trapped, for these doves were the very same doves he had created from the Black Keys.

When Gold Experience turns an object in motion into a living creature, the original momentum is lost, for the creature has its own inertia. However, when the command is given to return them to their original inanimate forms, they regain that lost inertial force as if they had been frozen in time. And all of those blades had been transformed mid flight.

Giorno tossed the dove into the air and turned around, beginning to walk away. He snapped his fingers, and the doves were transformed in a flash of gold. Kotomine could have dodged them in his prime, but not with these injuries.

"Goodbye, Kotomine," Giorno strode out of the alley, the sound of blades cutting into flesh disappearing into the distance. There was only one thing left to do, defeat the remaining Servants and win the Grail. Victory was right in front of his eyes.

"This is the end, Master," Giorno looked back towards the Magus, Kariya Matou. "I may need to go all out; can your body handle it?"

Standing up straight, the Magus raised his fist into the air, trying his best to hide his fatigue. Giorno could see he was nearing his limits, but he merely nodded in acceptance.

"Don't worry about me, my life has been forfeit since the beginning," Kariya closed his eyes, his body starting to shake. "Just win, fix my mistakes, I'm begging you."

"There's no need to ask, I have no intention of losing."

Leaving his Master behind, Giorno Giovanna entered into a world no mortal should attempt to cross. The flames that tore through the city smoldered around him and the air was heavy with smoke. But that wasn't all; the land itself seemed to have changed, soaked with a malice energy that he could only describe as the feeling of evil itself.

A normal human would likely succumb after only a few minutes in this hellish landscape, but Giorno Giovanna was no human. It was only his existence as a servant that allowed him to survive, and even he could feel the effects creeping in. He had to hurry before it began to weaken him further.

The closer he got to the epicenter, the worse things became, this couldn't possible be the Eden that Caster was trying to achieve? Something must have gone wrong, but Giorno had no idea what it could be. Reality around him twisted and warped, painting a picture right out of a nightmare. He half expected some demonic creature to emerge from every corner, but no such thing occurred.

All around him there were bodies, corpses of the civilian populous of this city. Kotomine had unleashed a monster on Fuyuki, turning the downtown city into a scene from a horror movie. And it wouldn't end until that golem was stopped. Even if Kotomine and Caster were killed, it would continue to function independently.

Giorno entered an open area, spotting Saber off to the distance. Past her, was his target, the giant golem Keter Malkuth. Giorno couldn't feel the presence of Rider, nor did he see that larger than life Servant anywhere. Had he fallen against this foe? The one known as the King of Conquerors deserved a better end, to fall against another Servant, not to be struck down by an unthinking beast.

Saber was still alive, but she had evidently given up all hope. Kneeing in the blackened mud around her, she stared vacantly out, not seeming to care that the golem was fast approaching her. If only he had gotten here sooner, things might have gone differently…

Keter Malkuth raised its massive fist, an arc of raw mana shooting wildly from its joints as it moved. The golem slammed its fist down, the force of the displaced air alone creating a minor shockwave. Aimed for the Servant of the sword, it was a blow that would surely kill.

"Muda!" But Giorno was faster, and his golden fist connected with the golem's mid blow. His mana surged, reinforcing his body with his stand. Wracked with pain, he resisted the golem, much to Saber's shock.

"Ar..cher?" Almost as if she had awoken from a dream, her eyes flicked around, confused as to what was going on. She couldn't comprehend the situation, where had Archer come from? How was he stronger than this golem?

"No time to chat, Saber," Giorno's face contorted under the strain, and his arm began to falter. A crack shot across the battlefield, but he continued to hold back the golem with his broken arm. "We should make a tactical retreat for the moment, don't you agree?"

She couldn't argue with his words, and with what little resolve she had left, picked up her discarded blade and started to fall back. As soon as she was out of immediate danger, Giorno kicked off the ground and leapt back, his broken arm hanging loosely at his side.

The golem was breaking down with every step, the vast power it contained was far too much for it to handle, but only time could tell how long it would rampage until it succumbed to that. As heroes, as Servants, they couldn't allow it to keep moving. But even Saber's Noble Phantasm couldn't break through the protection of its reality marble. As long as Keter Malkuth stood atop 'Eden' it was functionally invincible, and possessed unlimited mana.

Saber didn't know this, but Giorno was aware of it. His master had been very interested in the progress of this golem, his 'backup plan' if the servant he summoned couldn't win the war alone. Therefore, Giorno knew its supposed powers, though the current monster before them didn't quite match up to what he had been told. But with the way things were going, it looked to be their only chance. They had to break through its Reality Marble and destroy it before it had a chance to recover.

"Saber, do you have enough mana to use Excalibur?" Giorno turned to the small swordswoman, his tone completely calm despite their situation.

"My energy has recovered enough from my last blast to use it again, but to what end?" Saber clenched her teeth, her face turning into a scowl. "I've already used Excalibur against this thing, and it had no effect!"

"The golem's Reality Marble acts as an ultimate defense; it cannot be harmed while inside of it."

'Then we are doomed to fail, is that what you're saying?" She waved her sword at him, showing none of her usual composure. "Not even Rider's reality could overpower it, and with him gone…"

The blue swordswoman stopped her sentence, her gaze shifting downwards. So Rider had indeed died, as Giorno assumed, what a tragic end. But Giorno wouldn't let him die in vain, he had held off the golem long enough for his arrival after all.

"My 'Requiem' may be able to do it," Giorno strode out in front of her, raising his unbroken arm out to face the creature. "It's not as strong as it once was, but I may be able to create an opening for you if we time it right."

It was an absurd claim, and even Saber knew he was just guessing that his power would work. If his power didn't work, then they would both be completely exhausted and unable to survive, but if they didn't try then the golem would level the rest of the city.

"Fine, it's not like we have any other choice!" Saber readied her stance, power pouring into her sword.

Giorno dashed towards the golem, his broken arm hung limp, but he couldn't afford to waste power healing it at this time. He had to put everything he had into this attack, or it would unquestionably fail.

They had never fought on the same side, they had no common ground between them, but they moved perfectly in sync. They executed every move flawlessly, for if they didn't, the entire maneuver would fall apart. Giorno dodged the Golem's attacks easily, his incredible speed and agility showing in full force. He was like the wind itself, an unstoppable force that couldn't be touched.

"Any time now, Saber!" Sweat ran down his brow, even his Servant body was being pushed to its limits by his movement, he couldn't keep it up much longer.

"It's ready, do it now!" Saber raised her blade over her head, a golden light enveloping it.

"Gold Experience Requiem!"

Giorno threw his fist against the ground, and for a brief moment, a golden figure stood beside him, mimicking his movement. There was no impressive spectacle, no flash of golden light, it almost seemed as though nothing had happened. But the reality marble disappeared, completely eradicated from the world in an instant. Neither Giorno nor Saber knew how long it would last, but they wasted no time.

"Excalibur!"

Giorno leapt to the side, avoiding the torrent of golden energy that crashed into the golem. The power of Excalibur was immense, so much so that canceling it with his Requiem took everything he had, leaving him completely drained. In his current state, he likely couldn't even stop it, but it seemed he wouldn't get a chance to test that theory.

The gold light broke through the formerly invincible golem, cutting clean through it and digging a massive scar into the earth across the land. It was unfortunate, but they had no choice but to use such a destructive tool. As the light cleared, the golem was still standing, but it had ceased advancing.

The golem, still not fully destroyed, attempted to walk forward. The energy within it began to even more violently expel itself from the construct then before, and in an explosive flash one of its arms completely broke away from the body, crushing a burning building nearby.

Both Servants could feel the energy buildup inside of it, it had become highly unstable. In all likelihood, it would explode in a massive storm of mana, one which neither of them were strong enough to survive at this time.

Saber fell to her knees, unable to stand any longer. She had used too much power, and even with her connection with her Master, she was running out of power. Her body began to fade, something which Giorno took notice of immediately.

"You said you were ready, why did you lie?" He walked over to her, his stern face appearing even more condescending than normal.

"We had… no choice," Saber spoke through ragged breath, the act of talking alone was too much for her now.

"You gave up your chance for the grail… to save the rest of the city," Giorno turned to face the Golem, its body still rapidly breaking down. He walked towards the golem, rather than away from it like common sense would imply. "I was wrong, Saber. You have far more resolve than I thought."

"Looks like… we won't get to finish our duel, Archer," She sighed, her expression a forced smile.

"I surrender, my ability to block your Excalibur was a one time miracle," Giorno looked up at the golem, a golden light enveloping his body. "I know servants are unable to remember being summoned after they disappear, but if can retain one thing, make it this. _You _won, not me."

"Humility… doesn't suit you, arche-" Before her sentence was complete, the Servant Saber disappeared from this world, unable to achieve her dream. Giorno's fist tightened and he continued to walk towards the golem. He would finish it with his own hand, before it had a chance to cause any more damage.

But the golem fell, collapsing to the ground with an earth shattering thud. As it hit the ground, it exploded in a blast of putrid black sludge. The miasma rained over the area, destroying everything it touched without pause. The town burned, even more than the Reality Marble had caused. The wave of destruction was unlike anything before it, it erased everything it touched.

"..!" Giorno tried to avoid it, but the mud splashed over him before he had a chance to escape, drowning him in darkness. An intense pain wracked his body, like he was being torn apart from the inside out. His mind was full of nothing but pain, an indescribable agony that destroyed his mind.

He was violated; the very core of his being was twisted, pulled apart at the seams and remade into something else. He lost all sense of time, of reason, he lost everything. And then, there was nothing but blackness.

* * *

Sunlight shone through the open window, nearly blinding him as he opened his eyes. The window showed a steadily passing landscape, and the soft mechanical hum told him he was on some sort of vehicle. He blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings. He was in a train-car, there was a turtle sleeping comfortably on the seat across from him, and the rest of the compartment was empty.

Giorno Giovanna, Stand user and member of the gang Passione, yawned as he stood up, stretching his arms out in front of him. He must have fallen asleep at some point, but he couldn't remember when. He was evidently still half asleep, because he was greatly confused by his current situation.

The door to the cabin slid open, and a man with an incredibly lanky figure entered. His short black hair was cut in a bob, and his dazzlingly white suit was adorned with an absurd amount of zippers.

"Finally awake, Giorno?" The man sat down across from him, a glass of some fancy looking mixed drink in his hand. "Don't tell me that last mission tired you out this much? I expect more from my subordinates."

Giorno tried to remember what that 'last mission' he referred to was, but he drew a blank. He looked over at the man, still processing what was going on.

"Bru…no?" He started to say what he was thinking out loud, something incredibly uncharacteristic of him. The man before him made a face as if Giorno had just said something incredibly stupid.

"Of course I'm Bruno, who do you think I like look? Mista?" he crossed his legs and leaned back against the train seat. "Did you hit your head during that fight or something, Giorno?"

That possibility seemed more likely by the second, but he shook his head. He was about to ask Bruno what was going on, but then train suddenly lurched hard, causing him to tumble to the floor.

Bruno Buccellati, Giorno's direct overseer in the gang, stood up, his face turning more serious than it had been. Giorno too knew what to expect, whenever something strange occurred around them, it only meant one thing.

"Do you think-?" he started to speak, but Bruno held up his hand to stop him.

"Yeah, what else would it be?" Bruno turned towards him, placing his hand on Giorno's shoulder. "Mista and Trish are up by the front of the train, go meet up with them, I'll find Leon and Narancia."

Giorno nodded, heading out of the room and into the hall. Pushing his way through the crowds of confused people, he made his way up the train. If this was the work of an enemy Stand User, he had to be weary; any one of them could be the culprit.

None of the passengers seemed all that out of place though, if he was among them he was an expert at blending in. He couldn't discount the possibility, but he wasn't about to get paranoid. Giorno pushed open the door to the next compartment, slipping into it quietly.

The car he entered was unnervingly silent, and he could only see one passenger, was this him? With caution, he approached the man, who appeared to be a businessman around the age of forty. As he neared him, the man lurched out of his seat, like a puppet being controlled by strings.

Various black marks covered the man's body, looking at them made Giorno's eyes hurt, as if he was looking into a vast dark expanse. The man ran at Giorno, his body moving with awkward jerking motions.

"Gold Experience!" Giorno cried out the name of his stand, and at his command, an ornate golden figure appeared beside him. Around the same size as him, with a head shaped like a helmet, the golden form of his stand came into existence. Giorno felt a strange feeling of nostalgia wash over him when he saw it, but it shouldn't have been _that_ long since he'd used it last.

The stand moved independently of Giorno's body, rushing out before him and striking the attacker with a punch too fast to follow with the naked eye. The man fell to the floor, but quickly returned to his feet. His expression was not one of anger, it wasn't the face of an enemy, he looked afraid.

The man ran forward again, once again being stopped by Giorno's Stand. Gold Experience grabbed him, and with a powerful throw slammed him against the exit door of the train car. Without even thinking about the repercussions of his actions, Giorno punched him through the door with the strength of his Stand.

"No hard feelings, I had no choice," Giorno watched as the man disappeared from view as he fell from the speeding train, which notably had accelerated from the speed it was at when he woke up. He turned away from the broken door and continued up the train.

As he entered the next section, a familiar swirl of pink hair caught his eye. Surrounded by ordinary passengers, she held them back with her Stand. With each hit from her Stand, the attacker's bodies turned into soft, spongy blobs with no power to remain upright. This was the power of her stand: Spice Girl.

Giorno brought out his Gold Experience once more, and his Stand punched the floor of the train. From its hand spouted a mass of plant life that rapidly covered the train, tangling the passengers in a forest of vines.

"Trish, Bruno sent me to join up with you and Mista," Giorno approached her; keeping a safe distance just in case this was somehow a trap. "Where is he?"

"We got separated, he should be up ahead," Trish walked over to Giorno, her long skirt flowing behind her. "Is this another one of my father's assassins?"

"Whoever it is, I'll defeat them the same," Giorno strode towards the next car of the train, suddenly stopping when he caught a black mass out of the corner of his vision. "..!"

Giorno leapt back as a black mass shot across the train, narrowly avoiding it. Where he was just standing was now blocked by a writhing tentacle, similar to a squid. Was this the true form of the enemy Stand?

Touching one of his ladybug brooches with his Stand, Giorno transformed it into a flying fish, which leapt into the air from his hand and sailed towards the tentacle. The tendril of darkness slashed out at it, slicing it down the middle. This should have caused a feedback effect, damaging the Stand User in the same way, but since the black tentacle remained, it hadn't happened. It was then that Giorno noticed his created life, it was on the floor where it had fallen, but was now coated in the blackness that the passengers were.

Despite the danger, the undeniable fact that they were under attack, Giorno felt peaceful. This was how he'd always lived his life, and it felt _right_. His companions at his side, fighting an unknown enemy, it all felt like hundreds of years ago that it happened. He couldn't explain this distant feeling, hasn't it always been this way?

"We need to get past this thing, Trish, can you soften the roof?" He turned back to her, and she nodded, summoning her stand without another word. Her stand hit the ceiling of the train car, causing it to visibly sag down under it's own weight now that it was 'soft'

Giorno punched through it with his stand, and jumped up to the top. The extreme winds cut through him like a knife, but he managed to stay standing. Kneeling down at the hole they created, he reached out his hand and pulled Trish up. Traveling along the top of the train, a gunshot rang out from just ahead.

"Spice Girl!" Trish called her Stand, punching through the roof of the next car. They were nearing the front of the train; if the enemy was ahead then he had nowhere to run. The two Stand users jumped into the car, Giorno landing gracefully next to the source of the gunshot, Mista. Trish on the other hand failed to stick her landing, falling flat on her face.

Guido Mista held his revolver in his hands, pointed at the only other person in the train. Giorno moved forward to get a better look at him, stopping a few feet from the man. Clearly male by his bare chest, he wore a long white coat with red trim open over his body. His short, white hair hung over his left eye in a messy fashion.

He was clearly different from the other passengers; he had a distinct 'presence' that they lacked. His tightly bandaged arms rested in his coat's pockets, and his face was locked into a sadistic smile.

"You must be the enemy responsible for this," Giorno posed, his right hand tugging on the opening of his blue jacket while the other rested on his hip. "Did the 'Boss' send you?"

"You're partially right, _Giorno Giovanna,_" The young man, appearing around the same age as Giorno, maybe slightly older, raised a hand up. He stretched his open hand towards Giorno, revealing a pentagram tattoo on his palm. "I am the enemy, but I take orders from no one but myself. My name is Styx, the root of all evil!"

"Go back to middle school with that edgy bullshit, there's no way you can beat all of us!" Mista stepped forward, shaking his pistol at the Stand User Styx. "In fact, I can handle you alone, Sex Pistols!"

Six small lights appeared around him, forming into tiny stands. While one person may only have 'one' Stand, there exists no rule that a single stand can not _resemble_ multiple stands, like Mista's. Each part of his stand was numbered one to seven, skipping the number four due to superstitions held by the gunman.

The Stand parts flew across the train car, buzzing around like angered bees. Following that, Mista raised his pistol and fired a burst of 5 shots, his gun clicking empty with the last pull of his trigger. The bullets were headed straight for Styx, an attack any Stand User could avoid. That's where Sex Pistols came into play, each part of the stand catching and redirecting the bullets; the trajectory of each shot became impossible to follow.

The white haired Stand User laughed, not even attempting to evade the attack. A mass of black tendrils surrounded him, wrapping him like a cocoon. Harmlessly, the bullet bounced off them, clattering to the floor.

"Don't underestimate me, _Guido Mista!"_ The Stand User known as Styx roared, the cocoon unraveling around him and gathering behind him, it began to take a humanoid shape. "Let me show you the power of my Stand, _Sympathy for the Devil!_"

The black mass grew limbs, like a cross between a wild beast and man, it took shape. Its head was like a wolf's, but with six glowing yellow eyes. Its body was covered in blood red markings that appeared to be cuneiform. On its body it wore bright silver shoulder pads and arm bands, in a distinctly Ancient Persian style, and a red, tattered loincloth.

Mista pulled a handful of bullets from his pocket, quickly reloading his gun. He pointed it back towards the enemy stand. In this form, he wouldn't be able to pull off that cocoon trick again, Mista almost laughed at how much easier he had made things for him.

In the blink of an eye, the enemy Stand vanished. Mista's face turned to an expression of shock, and reflexively he fired a shot from his gun, but it hit nothing but the train's wall. The enemy Stand reappeared next to him, a beastlike claw slashing down towards his arm.

The stand returned to its controller, Styx. The boy laughed uncontrollably, as if he had heard the punchline to a joke the others weren't aware of. Mista doubled over on the ground in pain, but his arm was still attached. Slowly, he stood back up; his entire right arm from the elbow down had turned the same black as the enemy Stand.

Mista's arm rose up and pointed towards Giorno and Trish, he aimed his gun, and he fired three shots. Before Giorno had time to comprehend the situation, Trish had summoned her stand. Her Stand punched the bullets, each one turning harmlessly soft before they hit the ground.

"Ahhhgg, I- I can't control my arm!" Mista grabbed his arm with his left hand, but the limb was deadlocked in position. In the distance, Styx's laughter grew louder.

"Isn't my Sympathy for the Devil just great?" Styx spun on the heel of his foot, striking a pose. With only his left foot on the ground, he crossed his right over it. He pressed his fingertips on his right hand to his lips, laying his left arm over his right. "It turns the best of friends into mortal enemies in a flash!"

"Gold Experience!" Giorno called his stand without hesitation, knocking Mista to the side. Creating more vines, he bound his friend's arm to the wall, preventing him from shooting them. "Wait there, I'll handle this."

Giorno stepped up to the center of the car, his Stand wrapping its arms around his neck in a strange pose. Neither Stand User attacked, they both just stood still, waiting for the other to make a move.

Styx broke the stalemate, his stand rushing towards Giorno. He placed Gold Experience between himself and the enemy Stand, and it launched a series of punches, two to the face and one to the body. The Stand and the user were blown back, Styx spitting up a small amount of blood as he hit the wall.

"Not bad, you're as strong as I expected," he smirked, wiping the blood from his face. "But this is far from over!"

His stand rematerialized, and with a swift movement, punched a hole in the floor. A horrendous screeching noise filled the cabin, and the train shook violently.

"No way, is he going to crash the train?!" Trish grabbed onto a nearby seat to try and remain standing, but the train only became more unstable. The train derailed; the car they were in flying through the air with insane speed. For a moment, Giorno felt the sensation of being weightless, before crashing into the roof with a painful thud.

He saw the white haired boy jump from the crashing train, his Stand carrying him out. Giorno's sense of direction was confused, he couldn't tell which way was up anymore. The slender hand of Trish Una reached out to him, and he took it without thinking.

"Waannaabeee!" Her stand unleashed a strange cry and punched through the roof. Giorno fell, along with Trish and Mista, who was held in Spice Girl's arms, towards the ground. Right before they hit, Spice girl struck the ground itself, softening it enough for them to safely land.

Giorno stood up, his body was badly bruised but aside from that, he was fine. Styx landed a few feet away, jumping from his Stand's grasp to the ground with his hands in his pockets.

"I'm impressed you managed to make it out of that, though the rest of your friends don't seem so lucky," He laughed, just was what so damn funny about any of this? Giorno supposed it didn't matter to a psychopath like this, but he wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off his face. "And it's seems like you've forgotten _something_ when you rescued Mista."

A gunshot echoed across the area, and suddenly Giorno was coughing up blood. He looked down, and there was a patch of red soaking through his clothes. For an instant, he saw a red spear in his mind, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. What the hell was that? Was he getting delusional from the injury?

Before him, a powerful Stand user, behind him, an ally who lost control of his body, Giorno was flanked before he knew it. he didn't know which to deal with first, if he took out Styx, he could free Mista from the Stand's control, but if he left Mista he became a liability.

"Sticky Fingers!" The voice of someone he knew well rang out, the voice of Bruno Buccellati. From the wreckage of the train, a massive zipper appeared on the side, and three figures emerged. Despite the blood running down his forehead, Bruno looked perfectly fine. As soon as he appeared, his stand created a zipper along the ground. Taking hold of it, it began to open extremely quickly, bringing him into the fight.

He didn't even have to ask what had happened, his instincts was that well honed. Landing behind Mista after a jump, his stand touched Mista's blackened arm, creating a zipper around it. With a smooth motion, he opened the zipper, Mista's arm dropping to the ground and freeing him from the stand's power.

It was just like old times, the whole gang gathered to defeat the enemy. And that was the problem; it was just like _old_ times. It was too perfect, like everything happening played to his deepest desires. Giorno had realized from the start that something felt weird, but he hadn't been able to determine what it was until now. He started to walk towards the enemy.

Giorno looked back at his friends, his true comrades, and faced the Stand user. He didn't bring out Gold Experience, not yet; he simply stared at him with his statuesque gaze.

"What are you, really?"

"Figured it out already, huh?" The boy put his hands behind his head, his face started to pout as he kicked at the dirt below them. "I was hoping to have a little more fun, what gave it away?"

"Trish can't stand Mista," Giorno turned his body away, so that he only looked at the boy from the corners of his vision. "She wouldn't have saved him, not without complaining at least."

"Ahh, I messed up!" The boy ran his hand through his hair, making it even more messed up.

"Answer the question, what _are_ you?" Giorno called his Stand, Gold Experience appearing behind him as if to punctuate his command.

"I'm what you've been fighting for this whole time, that's why we're here. Is this not the wish you've been trying to achieve? Reunited finally with your friends, your brothers-in-arms, just like this?"

"My wish is a bit more… tangible than this," Giorno didn't quite understand, this boy was the Holy Grail? "If you're saying this is the best you can do, then your status as the Holy Grail is quite… suspect."

"I can only grant wishes in a way that you know how to, and you currently know no way to return to your world, outside of a dream."

"What's this guy on about, Giorno?" Bruno, or at least, the figment of Giorno's imagination that looked like Bruno, came over to them. Now that he remembered everything, seeing Bruno alive was even more painful than he expected, and it took everything he had to maintain his cold look.

"I'm sorry, Bruno, but I have to be going."

He turned away and faced the boy who claimed to be the grail; he looked up at Giorno with a pained expression. But Giorno didn't care, this wasn't real, it was all a dream.

"Gold Experience Requiem," his words were softly spoken, not shouted like his normal cry. A golden light spread from his body, covering the entire world around him. And then, the world began to break, cracks formed in the sky, the ground fell away, until there was nothing left but him and the white haired boy, and even his form had started to fade.

Giorno Giovanna opened his eyes; he was sprawled out on the ground facing the sky. Around him, a devastating fire burned away the city, and he was in the center of it. His body felt heavy, weak from lack of energy. No, this was something more fundamental. He felt like he did in the dream, he felt… human.

There was no feeling of his Servant Master connection with Kariya in his body, so either the Magus had died when he used his second Requiem, or the connection was severed.

Kariya was yet another victim of the Holy Grail War, his wish cruelly taken from him. Even if he had survived somehow, it was impossible for him to achieve his dream, the grail was destroyed. More importantly, Giorno saw the truth of the Grail, and it disgusted him.

"That's what I've been fighting for this whole time? What a joke." He sighed as he sat up in the inferno. The flames were enough that any normal human would die just by remaining here, but even now Giorno's body was far from human. Something had changed within him, he no longer felt as if his connection to the world was tenuous at best, and though he didn't enjoy doing so before, he now seemed incapable of returning to spiritual form.

Some things remained the same however, like his Stand. He was still unable to summon his Stand as an actual entity, the power remaining in his own body. It wasn't as if he had returned to his original self, but he was no longer something that could be considered a Servant. But only time would tell the extent of what had changed.

Slowly, Giorno rose to his feet. He wandered through the burning wreckage of the city, searching for a way out. Eventually, he came to a small clearing where the fire had died down somewhat. In the distance he could see a figure, though he couldn't see them in detail through the inferno's haze.

As he approached, he saw that it was the Einzbern Master, recalling a report Tokiomi had on his desk of the man. The 'Magus Killer' Kiritsugu Emiya, it's not surprising he survived the final battle, but why was he still in this hell?

Giorno's eyes followed Kiritsugu's gaze, coming to rest on the body of a young boy, who was severely burned. He probably wouldn't survive unless something drastic was done. Kiritsugu noticed Giorno then, turning to face him. Blood ran down the side of his face, and through his tattered clothes Giorno could tell the man was barely alive, he must have been caught in the explosion.

"You're Archer, right?" His voice was strained, it seemed like every ounce of his remaining energy went into speaking. "I suppose… this makes you the winner."

"It was a hollow victory, but it seems I have," The gold haired Servant turned away from the magus and began to walk away. Giorno could easily heal both his and the boy's wounds, but he wasn't about to hand out charity to his former enemy.

"Wait…" Kiritsugu's voice was even weaker than before as he called out to Giorno, falling to his knees. He stretched a hand out towards the ex-Servant, as if he was trying to grab him before he disappeared. "Your power… I've seen it, you can heal."

"And why should I heal my enemy? The war may be over, but we still fought on opposite sides." Giorno coldly shot him down before he even had a chance to ask, not slowing his stride as he left the dying man.

"Not me, just him…" The magus pointed towards the boy, and Giorno stopped. "He doesn't deserve to die here, not like this."

Giorno couldn't ignore his request, at first he had only been thinking of Kiritsugu as an enemy, but he overlooked that child. That boy was a civilian; he had been caught in the madness of the end of the way. Giorno couldn't just let him die, hadn't his desire to stop that golem been for the same reasons?

The boy stared up at him with a weak smile, seemingly happy to see anyone in this inferno. Giorno reached out and placed his hand on the boy's chest, a golden light surging from his body.

"Sorry, this is going to be rather painful," Giorno closed his eyes and focused his power. He could feel the life force of the child, and quickly isolated the damage. For the majority of it, he simply converted the dead tissue into living flesh again, but a few of his organs were severely damaged. Taking hold of a piece of metal debris, he placed it against the boy's body. Enveloped in, the light of his Gold Experience, it melted into his skin, reforming into the lost flesh and blood of the boy.

The process should be excruciating, but the boy didn't cry out once. He was likely in shock, but Giorno saw something in his eyes. A resolve to live uncommon in the world, this boy had incredible willpower, presumably how he survived this blaze in the first place.

Halfway through the process, the boy lost consciousness, but his life was no longer in danger. Giorno stood up, his work completed. He glanced over to Kiritsugu, who was leaned up against a pile of rubble, his eyes closed. Without fanfare, without even making a sound, the Magus Killer Kiritsugu Emiya had died. But as Giorno looked at his body, he could only see the face of a man who died content, a smile permanently painted on his face.

Walking over to him, Giorno solemnly placed his hand on the man's shoulder. Injecting life into his corpse, he transformed the magus. In seconds the man was remade, becoming a towering cherry tree. Giorno's life wouldn't be destroyed by this fire; it would survive the disaster and continue living.

For a moment, Giorno wondered what compelled him to do this; it wasn't like he was friends with the man. But after seeing him here, after sacrificing himself to save an unrelated child, something inside of him had stirred. Maybe it was the dream the Grail had shown him, maybe he was just changing, but he wanted to at least leave some form of monument to those who fell.

Kiritsugu's body might be the basis of the monument, but it was a memorial for all who lost their lives in this farce of a war. Friend and enemy alike, he would leave this tree so as to never forget them.

Satisfied with that, he turned away and picked up the sleeping boy. It was time to leave this hellhole, though already the flames were dying down. In a way, this boy and him were the same, their resolve allowed them to keep living, and they became the only survivors.

As he exited the smoldering ruins, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Something about the air was _wrong._ Gently placing the boy to the ground, his eyes darted around him, trying to find the source of his strange feeling. Like the haze from a sweltering summer day, the air around him distorted.

"..!"

A silver flash cut through the air in a deadly arc, aimed straight for him. Giorno kicked off the ground, barely avoiding the blow. The next attack came just as swift, the blade slicing through the area between them with machine like precision. The figure attacking him was clad in brilliantly white armor, like a newly bloomed lily. Aside from that, they moved too quickly for him to determine anything else about them.

Giorno threw up his left hand, catching the blade in mid strike. The metal dug into his palm, drawing a line of blood, but the sword stopped. The resulting impact created a blast of air so powerful his ponytail came undone, his hair blowing wildly behind him.

But finally, he got a look at his attacker. A small, petite frame clad in ornate armor. Blonde hair pulled back in a bun and tied with a bow. Even though the figure wore a mask that covered the upper half of their face, they were unmistakably someone he knew well. Yes, this body, this sword, they could only belong to one person.

"Came back for more did you, Saber?" Giorno broke off from the swordswoman, gaining enough distance to effectively dodge. He was confused, his understanding of Servants was that the Grail summoned them, so how was she here? He quickly decided he didn't care, for it gave him a chance to finish their duel, which had been cut short before.

"Aberration engaged, all seals unlocked," The lily white Saber brandished her sword towards him, the gilded form of Excalibur was unmistakable. She spoke with a cold, almost robotic intonation. Her current outfit and manner of speech was likely connected with how she was able to return to the present without the Grail. A massive amount of energy started to build within her, even more than when they had fought previously.

"Come then, let's finish our duel, Saber!"


	9. Chapter 8: Passione

The devastation to Fuyuki city wasn't something that would be easily forgotten, it would remain in history with a similar persistence to the legends of the Heroic Spirits that caused it. Nearly half the city wiped from the map in a single night, bringing with it untold casualties.

The Church, along with the Magus Association, managed to obfuscate the truth, but that did nothing to repair the damage, both physical and mental, that happened that night. The theories around the disaster ranged from terrorism to a secret alien invasion, but only a handful knew the truth.

One of those aforementioned people was a young boy around seven, considered to be the only survivor of the blaze itself. Others had survived the chaos, but none had been so closely at the epicenter of it. It was nothing short of a miracle that he survived, and even more, was relatively unharmed, at least in the physical sense. The boy hadn't spoken a single word since he arrived at the hospital; he only stared out the window towards the ruins of the city.

On the fifth day of his hospitalization, he was cleared to leave, and an orphanage in a neighboring town offered to take him in. The nurse in charge of overseeing him had gone to his room to tell him the good news, but found only an empty bed. The search for him went on for several hours, but there was no sign of him at all.

Later, sightings of the redheaded boy would be reported by the night shift staff, spawning a minor urban legend of "The Ghost of the Inferno." But he was no ghost, and his disappearance had been entirely mundane.

His room, coincidently, was on the first floor. Not anticipating his unscheduled departure, no one made any attempt to keep his window locked. He had overheard them talking about sending him away, and he was struck with a sudden fear. Taking the clothing left for him by the hospital, a pair of jeans and a blue hooded sweat-jacket, he decided that now was a good time to leave.

The boy escaped through the window, and once he was on the main street, he wandered aimlessly, not sure of what to do next. Eventually, almost as if his body had a will of its own, he found himself headed towards the ruined city. He slipped past the barricades warning of the danger, paying them no mind, and headed for the only thing that wasn't a burned wreck.

He had seen it from his window, and something about it called to him. A cherry tree, standing against the ashen landscape, and it was blooming out of season no less. How could he _not_ be pulled towards such a bizarre sight?

As he traveled through the remnants of the city he once lived in, his breathing became shallow and uneven. His eyes lost focus, and for a moment the only thing in his mind was a feeling of dread. A vision of something flashed through his mind, a massive humanoid monster towering over him, spewing fire and death all around it.

The full truth of the event was unknown to him, but he was witness to the final battle of the so called Holy Grail War. The conflict that took everything from him, leaving him a broken mess still haunted his thoughts. During the day, while he slept, he couldn't escape the hell he was thrust into.

He wanted to turn back, every instinct in his body wanted to turn around and escape this place. But his legs didn't respond to his pleas, continuing to walk forward as if compelled by an unseen force. Finally, he reached the base of the tree.

He placed his hand on it, feeling strange, subtle warmth from it. It felt like something he vaguely remembered from the fire, a man with golden hair who had carried him out. But that was just a dream, wasn't it?

That monster in his nightmares and the golden hero in his dreams couldn't possibly be real. It didn't make any sense to the boy, how could they be real; it was like something out of a fantasy novel. He wanted to deny them, to go back to his normal life, but he already knew. He knew they were somehow real, he could feel it.

His mind was scattered, the shock of this tragedy removing most of his early memories. He could barely remember his own name, and even then, only his given name. Unable to remember his family name, he felt completely cut off from them. But what he could remember was a golden hero pulling him from the raging inferno, and he vaguely remembered a swordsman in white, who challenged the hero to a duel.

The scale of the conflict was too much for his mind to even comprehend, it was unlike anything that should have been possible on this planet. Had he tried to understand the scene he had witnessed, it was very likely that his mind would have broken from the strain.

He had drifted back to sleep then, so he couldn't remember the outcome, and there wasn't any sign of either of them here, so why had this tree called to him? Of course, in truth the tree hadn't called him at all; it was nothing but a tree. But to a child, he was unable to realize this.

An image of a golden, invincible hero was burned into his mind, and he wanted nothing more then to see that man again. It was then that he decided to find the man; he had to be here in town, right? And so the boy set out on a search for the mysterious man, using the most logical course of action a seven year old could muster.

The sun began to set in the distance, but he continued to search. He checked hotels; he checked restaurants, bus stops, trains, and anything else he could think of. He was about ready to give up; his search had turned up nothing of remote connection to him.

"Children shouldn't wander around at night; they might run into someone dangerous," a voice from behind him caught his attention, the first person to even acknowledge him all day. Too busy with the response to the disaster, one child who seemed to be healthy wasn't their main concern. "Don't waste the second chance I gave you."

The boy turned towards the voice, despite its harsh words he felt like he cared about him. Facing him was the man with unbelievably golden hair, a color that didn't look like it came from this world. His face, completely devoid of any emotion, was impossible to read, but the boy somehow knew he was glad to see him. Maybe it was just his imitation, a projection of his own desires onto the man, but he truly believed it.

Another image of the man fighting against the white swordsman appeared in his mind, the man radiating golden light. The boy was unsure what to say to the man, how should he address this peerless hero? His words catching in his throat a few times, he finally managed to blurt out something resembling a sentence.

"I-I want to be a hero like you!" Where had that come from? He had done nothing but admire the man's strength until now, having no thoughts of wanting it for himself. But in that moment, he had said out loud a desire he wasn't even aware of. "I-I mean… I want to be strong like you!"

"And who says that I'm strong, or a hero for that matter?" the man clenched his hand into a fist, but the boy didn't retreat from this hostile act. "I'm no hero, boy; I'm a Gang-Star."

"A G-Gangster?" the boy reflexively jumped back a step, though the distance he gained was trivial. He was shocked, what kind of person admits to being a gangster so easily? But at the same time, it was kind of cool, like he didn't care what anybody else thought of him. "W-Who says gangsters can't be heroes!"

The boy shouted something ridiculous, and for a split second, the man seemed unable to react. Frozen like a statue, the man stared at him in silence. The boy was terrified, who knew what the self proclaimed gangster was going to do.

"Good answer, looks like you're not a complete idiot, boy," he broke the silence, crouching down to face the boy at eye level. "What's your name?"

"S-Shirou…" his body's trembling was beginning to subside, but he still failed to talk without stuttering while facing this man. He had an overwhelming presence, so it was a wonder Shirou could even stand up in front of him.

"You have quite the 'resolve' for someone so young, Shirou," The man stood up, holding his hand out, his palm facing up. "If you want strength like mine, I can grant it to you, but it won't be pleasant."

"I don't care, I want to be strong!" Tears welled up in Shirou's eyes, which he quickly wiped away with his sleeve. "I-If was stronger, then maybe… maybe I could have saved someone!"

"Very well, I accept your determination, Shirou!" A flash of light appeared in his hand, and suddenly he held an ornate stone arrow in his hand. Before Shirou had a chance to react, the man plunged the arrow into his shoulder. "Show me the extent of your resolve!"

The pain from the arrow was nothing compared to what happened next, an intense agony wrecked his entire body, like he was being torn apart from the inside. He fell to his knees, gritting his teeth. He resisted the temptation to cry out, to scream in pain, he endured it with his willpower alone. His mind went blank, and all he could see was red. It was as if all of his nerves were ripped from his body at the same time.

His willpower drained with every second, but some part of him told him to hold on, that if he let go, he would die. Unable to endure in silence any longer, he screamed. Not making any semblance of words, his voice was nothing more than a primal expression of his torment.

And then his senses returned, and the pain began to subside. He had no idea how long it had been, his sense of time was completely gone, but it was over. His body was soaked in sweat, his hair and clothing sticking against his skin.

"W-What…" Panting, he looked up towards the man, who held out his hand in an offer to lift him up. "What was that, w-what did you do?"

"A test, you passed," He grabbed the boy's hand and forced him back to his feet. "It may take some time, but you now posses an untold potential, only time will tell how strong you can become."

The man turned away, the arrow in his hand disappearing in a flash. He walked away, not looking back towards Shirou. The young boy followed him without thinking, his feet carrying him without his permission again.

"I don't remember inviting you along," The man put his hands in his pockets, slowing his stride to match Shirou's. His words said one thing, but his actions told a different story. Shirou had to take a chance, he felt like if he let him leave, he'd never see him again. "The life I lead isn't one for children, go have a normal life, you can worry about being strong when you've grown a bit."

But Shirou continued to follow him, not a single doubt in his mind. This was the correct path, the only path for him left. What was the point of having a normal life, after everything he'd seen?

"Are you sure? If you walk this road with me, you'll surely face even worse hardships than what you've endured until now, are you prepared for that?"

"I am, I'll do anything it takes," Shirou stopped walking, and the man followed suit, turning to face him. "I'll do it, I'll become a gangster!"

"I can't refuse a declaration like that, alright. My name is Giorno Giovanna, and from now on I'm your 'Boss,' got it?"

Shirou nodded, his eyes lighting up. He wasn't quite sure what to make of any of this, but he was happy nonetheless. His optimism was perhaps his strongest trait, allowing him to press forward even in the most difficult situations.

"Oh, and by the way, it's not gangster," Giorno put his hand on Shirou's head, a strangely compassionate act for the man. "I'll make you into a Gang-Star."

* * *

Six months had passed since he had left Fuyuki city, beginning an aimless journey across the world. Giorno Giovanna wasn't sure what to do now that he had been given a second chance at life, in a world even more alien than the last. Unlike that world however, here he found some semblance of hope. Even without the Grail, this world held mysteries beyond even his comprehension, some magic out there might be able to grant his wish.

As he was someone who did not exist in the eyes of society, moving around the world was quite difficult, so his wandering mostly stayed focused on Japan. His only constant companion in this journey being the boy he had picked up, his unlikely apprentice.

Shirou's memories were vague and confused, likely from repressing the trauma of the fire. It was thus that the boy couldn't remember his last name, so he had taken up Giorno's. Giorno wasn't well versed in being any sort of parental figure, and their relatively close physical age led to him treating the boy as his younger brother.

A few weeks after Shirou had joined him, passing the Arrow's test, he had started to show signs of his stand. Unable to summon a fully realized form, or to maintain it for long, he was far from becoming a full-blown Stand user. From the vague, hazy shapes that appeared behind him however, it appeared his stand was of the humanoid variety, like his original Gold Experience.

Likewise, when his power started to manifest his hair color had changed, turning from a deep red into a light reddish brown. Giorno had gone through this same phenomenon, his black hair turning golden blonde, and he had witnessed many Stand users with unusual hair colors. As the boy's Stand developed it was possible his hair color would continue to change, but only time would tell.

But for now, one thing was obvious, the boy was weak. Both in body and mind. He lacked the strength to bring out the full power of his abilities, so Giorno set out to train him. Focusing at first on increasing Shirou's fitness, as stamina was important even outside of being a Stand user. Later, he would train his mental control, but that could wait.

They funded their nomadic lifestyle with various methods, most not strictly legal. They were running dry, so Giorno made plans to gain a large sum of money at once. While passing through Ikebukuro, Giorno had spotted a local Yakuza group operating. Waiting for Shirou to fall asleep, he slipped out of the cheap hotel they were staying at and headed into the city.

"Ay, what the hell are you lookin' at, you punk?" a large, overly muscular man holding a wooden bat cocked his head to the side as Giorno walked towards him. If this was all they had for a guard, it would be even easier than he imagined. "Are you deaf or something? I asked you what you were looking at."

"Move," Giorno's voice was forceful and demanding of the Yakuza, as if he was ordering his own subordinate. But the man didn't budge; instead he raised his bat as if to strike Giorno.

Giorno's fist hit the man in the gut and before he had a chance to register what happened, the Servant turned human brought his knee up into the man's face, shattering his nose. He fell to the ground, knocked out cold.

Giorno entered the building, which appeared to be an empty warehouse, stepping over the unconscious guard. Once inside, he heard the sound of footsteps headed in his direction, they must have noticed his intrusion.

Three Yakuza ran at him from behind a stack of crates, wielding either bats or wooden swords. He sidestepped the first blow, roundhouse kicking him into the wall. The second swung down with his wooden katana, aiming for Giorno's head. He easily caught the weapon mid strike, breaking it in his hand before smashing his other fist into the man's face, breaking his glasses.

The third enemy was more formidable, dodging Giorno's first attack and launching a counter strike. Giorno through up his left arm, blocking the bat's swing as if his arm was made of steel and with a swift kick sent the man flying.

After several more uneventful fights of this manner, he came into the main clearing of the warehouse. Leaning against a large crate with an open lid, sat a woman around her twenties, with long red hair tied back in a ponytail. Her long bangs hung past the right side of her face, covering her eye completely.

Clearly, this woman was different from the rest of the fodder; she was likely the boss of the gang. His suspicions only increased when he saw the hilt of a genuine katana attached to her belt. As Giorno moved to approach her, a glint of silver in his peripheral vision set off his danger instincts, and he jumped back.

From the shadows, two more impressive than average Yakuza stepped out. The first wielded two short knives in his hands, obviously the one who had just attacked him. His eyes were covered by a pair of large sunglasses, and a scar ran down his face through his left eye.

The second was one of the biggest men he had ever seen, easily over six and a half feet tall. Likewise, his body was covered in an intense wall of muscle, rivaled only by Giorno's memories of Iskander the Conqueror. He had no weapon, but his hands were wrapped like a mixed martial artist.

The smaller of the two ran at Giorno, his knives flashing with the grace of an assassin. Giorno's speed made them trivial to dodge, until the second man joined the fray. Despite his size, he moved with an impressive pace and grace, quickly flanking Giorno.

Giorno caught the man's fist, his feet sliding across the floor from the impact. Giorno wasn't using the power of his Stand, but his base abilities already exceeded an ordinary human, and these men could keep up his pace. Before battles had merely been a means to an end to him, but ever since his fight against Saber in the Holy Grail War, something had changed in him. He could feel a passion when in combat, enjoying facing worthy opponents almost as much as the feeling of victory.

Was this an inherent feeling that all Heroic Spirits had? Had his summoning by the Grail changed him at a fundamental level, or was it his experience that had changed him? He didn't know the answers to these questions, only that in the heat of this battle, he was enjoying himself, even if his face didn't show it.

The three men were locked in a fight so intense it almost seemed choreographed, the two yakuza moving in sync around Giorno. Whenever he dodged one of them, the other would strike, forcing him to alter his course back towards the original attacker.

The rest of the gang had been useless, less than useless even, against his strength. But these two managed to inflict damage, however minor, on him. And all without giving him a chance to attack, for their assault was relentless.

Giorno considered using his Gold Experience, but he was hesitant to show his true nature to a group of minor thugs. Instead, he changed tactics from dodging everything. The next slash from the knife wielder shot towards his neck, but instead of dodging it he caught the blade, forcing the man's arm down sharply as he did so.

Before the man could recover or his friend could attack, Giorno kicked the man across the room, before turning towards the martial artist. They exchanged a series of punches, before Giorno successfully landed a hit against his body. With incredibly speed, Giorno leapt over the man's head, falling into a dropkick against his shoulder.

Neither men got back up, having been at the very least, stunned by his blows. Now, the only thing left to do was…

"..!" Giorno barely avoided a flash of steel aimed to take his head, his eyes darting to the direction of the attack. The woman with the katana had joined the fight, and from the looks of it, she was the last one left.

She walked towards him, her visible eye closed. Giorno took note of her appearance, which gave off a professional yet sinister air. She wore a light pink business suit, the jacket hanging open over a button down white shirt, and a black men's tie. At her right hip was the scabbard of a katana of traditional two handed length, which she held in one hand. Her left hand was loosely wrapped around the hilt of the sword, still resting in the sheath.

Giorno had heard of Japanese swordsmen so skilled they could draw and replace their blade in the blink of an eye, but he never believed it before now. That was the only explanation for what just happened. Suddenly, he started to get his hopes up about this fight, would she be a worthy opponent?

"Man, you really trashed my boys," she opened her eye, a striking violet gaze piercing through him. She was calm, despite his earlier display of power, was this a sign of her confidence? "I never expected a single guy to take out my entire operation, you're really something else."

"I have no quarrel with your organization, but I can't leave here without some sort of profit," Giorno turned to her, raising his hand out as if to offer peace. "If you hand over all of your current holdings, this violence can stop."

The woman attacked him without another word, his sword slashing with a speed that even impressed him. He evaded it, jumping back a step, but the blade managed to pierce his skin. A cut ran across his chest, though it was only skin deep. The calm expression she has was now replaced with anger.

"You think you're so strong that you can just come in here, beat up my boys, and rob us blind?" her eyes narrowed, and her mouth contorted with her rage. "And I'm supposed to just accept that? Don't make me laugh!"

She switched her stance to a two handed style, no longer returning the blade after each strike. Her base speed was lower than Giorno's but her training and master footwork closed the gap more than he could have anticipated. She also held the advantage in range, wielding a long two handed sword while he was unarmed.

While her movements were impressive, she was still only human. Giorno grew tired of the fight after only a few exchanges, and moved to end it. She slashed down in a deadly arc, one which he met with a high kick. The blade flew into the air, freed from its owners grasp.

Giorno leapt into the air, catching the blade gracefully. Her face twisted in shock as he fell towards her, her own blade turning against her. Giorno wielded the blade like an amateur, but his sheer strength and speed made up for his lack of skill. The blade cut a deep gash into the woman's torso, and she fell to the floor with a thud.

Dropping the blade, Giorno walked away from the fallen yakuza, searching the room for anything of value. Finally, he found a stash of money hidden away, conveniently in a duffle bag for easy transportation. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he walked out of the warehouse.

Giorno stayed in the town for another three days, continuing to amass a small fortunate in yen. Finally satisfied with his profits, he prepared to leave. Shirou was reluctant to leave anywhere they stopped at for too long, so it was about time they moved on. The Gang-Star and his only brother in arms headed for the city's train station, not sure of their next destination.

As they walked down the street, a man he didn't recognize stepped out in front of them. He had blonde hair, clearly dyed, in a short spiked style. For a moment, Giorno wondered how much hair gel he went through in one week, but the odd thought quickly turned to why this man had approached them.

He was young, about Giorno's current physical age, maybe a few years younger. Making him more of a child then a man, which probably explained why the jacket he was currently wearing belonged to a bicycle delivery service. The teen walked towards them, his face carrying a serious, stern expression.

Giorno tensed up, anticipating an attack. But it never came, instead, the teen dropped to his knees, bowing his head towards Giorno. He wasn't sure what to do with this, as the action had caught him completely off guard.

"Please, let me join your gang!" the teen's voice, far from the serious expression he had before, turned to a nervous sounding plea. Everything about this situation was surreal, but at the same time, he felt right at home in it. 'I heard about you, y-you're the one who sent half of Taniguchi's gang to the hospital on Saturday, right? Please, let me join you!"

Giorno was about to form a response, when he noticed a number of others nearing him. Soon, he was surrounded on all sides by men, most covered in bruises and bandages. He recognized some from his attack against the yakuza, had they come to try and take revenge? Out of the crowd, a familiar head of crimson hair stepped forward.

From the look on her face and how much she was sweating, she probably should still be in the hospital. Giorno noticed a slight red tinge soaking through the bandages on her chest.

She dropped to one knee, bowing her head towards Giorno. He had a strange feeling he knew what was coming next, but he was still unsure why any of this was happening. Perhaps he possessed some hidden skill as a heroic spirit, one that allowed him to easily sway followers.

"We humbly submit to you," The arrogance that had been in her voice before was all but gone, replaced with a humility that comes from recognizing one's own weakness. "If you would have us, we will serve you loyally, Boss."

Everything he could think of told him this was a bad idea, that he should reject this offer. He was trying his best to live relatively low profile, not staying in one place too long, not drawing unneeded attention to himself. Who knew what would happen if this world's Church or the Magus Association learned a Servant had survived the end of the Holy Grail War?

But inside of him, deep at his core, he still longed to be the Boss. And he had to admit, it would make things a lot easier to have a steady source of income. Giorno was torn between the most logical course of action, and his own desires. Normally, he was able to make the most rational choice despite his emotions, but this time was different.

"Welcome to Passione."

* * *

"Do we really have to go?" Can't Miss Taka handle it?" Shirou Giovanna looked up at his Boss, who paid him no attention as he prepared to leave the hotel. "You're the boss, let one of your underlings take care of it!"

Giorno Giovanna stopped his packing, closing his suitcase with a loud click. He turned towards Shirou, placing his hand on the nine year old child's dirty blonde hair.

"Taniguchi is strong, but the current situation has deteriorated enough that all of our strength is required," Giorno ruffled his hand through the boy's hair, thoroughly messing up his well kept appearance. "But more importantly, I'll never let myself become a leader who can't deal with his own problems in person."

"But what about my training? I think I'm about to hit a breakthrough, I can feel my Stand power rising every day!" Shirou excitedly thrust his hand into the air, making a fist.

"I don't see any reason why you can't train in Fuyuki, it isn't like I'm not bringing you with me," Giorno grabbed his suitcase and headed for the door, Shirou reluctantly doing the same.

Giorno would have to be a fool to not know why he was hesitant to return to Fuyuki city; it held nothing but bad memories for him. Giorno was aware of the boy's trauma; he often woke in the middle of the night from his terrible dreams. But it had been over two years since they had left, and he would have to face his fears eventually.

Since the unexpected forming of the new Passione, Giorno's gang had expanded across the country. His most recent branch however, was struggling with an issue that they couldn't handle on their own. Having started to gain control in Fuyuki on Giorno's orders, they encountered heavy resistance from an already entrenched yakuza group.

Giorno needed men in Fuyuki, it was the only site of the Holy Grail War, and while he didn't know if there would even be another in the future, he wasn't about to ignore the possibility. So it now fell to him to step in and end the rapidly escalating gang war by any means necessary.

Upon arriving in Fuyuki they checked into a hotel, leaving Shirou behind; he headed into the city. His gang didn't currently have a permanent base of operations, another problem he needed to remedy. Thankfully, it didn't take him long to make contact with his gang, one of the newer members meeting him outside of the hotel.

"Tell me the situation," Giorno addressed the less then impressive looking gangster beside him as he walked through the city. They moved quickly towards their destination, the main estate of the Fujimora group, their current enemy base.

"Taniguchi tried to get him to wait, but he's as reckless as usual, Boss," the man seemed nervous as he addressed Giorno, unsure how to speak to their famed leader. "He went to try and take out their leader this afternoon, but we haven't heard anything back since."

Giorno picked up his pace, his face showing none of the irritation he currently felt. The man he left in charge of the Fuyuki branch had been one of the first recruits, incredibly loyal and eager to prove himself. Giorno thought he was ready, but maybe a leadership position was too much for the young man to handle.

As they approached the large Japanese style estate, Giorno spotted the familiar red hair of one of his three officers, Taka Taniguchi. With her was a small group of men and women he didn't recognize, all dressed in a flamboyant fashion. Clearly inspired by his own style, the gang had become well known in the criminal underworld for its strange sense of presence.

Even Taniguchi had been influenced, her plain suit having changed into a bright pink one with an intricate flower pattern on it. The changed jacket however was the only part of her wardrobe that showed the gang's style, the rest of her outfit remaining subdued.

Without words, Giorno nodded to her and walked past towards the estate's gate. She followed him without question, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword. They didn't need to communicate a plan, their actions were obvious. They entered prepared to cut down anything that moved, but they met no resistance.

Scattered around the yard were the unconscious bodies of both yakuza and Passione members. The battle had obviously been fierce on both sides, Giorno suddenly regretted missing it.

"Tch, that guy…" Taka scowled, pushing her hair out of her face with her free hand. "Can't he show just a little restraint for once? Please?"

Giorno was about to respond, when a loud crash interrupted his train of thought, a figure flying across his field of view into the courtyard. A beaten, bloody man pulled himself to his feet, shaking his dyed blonde hair out of his eyes.

At that time, at least a dozen yakuza poured out of the main building, all wielding high quality blades. In stark contrast, the man who had just made his appearance was carrying a beaten up old baseball bat that had been adorned with nails. It was a crude weapon befitting his current ragged visage, but it didn't quite invoke the same deadly presence of the yakuza.

"Oi, it took you guys long enough, were ya scared or something?" The man wiped the blood from his face with his forearm, before looking towards Giorno the others. "O-Oh, I didn't know you were coming, Boss…"

"Looks like you're still alive, Angelo," Giorno strode into the center of the yard, not bothering to look at the man he spoke to. "One day that luck of yours might run out, but I suppose it wasn't today."

The Yakuza, clearly unimpressed by the reinforcements Giorno had brought with him, continued to attack. Quickly, it turned into an all out brawl between both sides. Giorno caught a katana between his fingers, to the shock and horror of the man swinging it, before breaking the yakuza's nose with a swift punch.

With a single arc of her blade, Taka cut down three men without blinking. None of them stood a chance, not even able to see her draw her sword. The men didn't die, but they were most certainly out of the fight.

Meanwhile, a certain young adult with spiked blonde hair was locked in a fierce duel with a single foe. His bat crashed against the man's katana, deflecting it's blade with the many nails sticking out from it. But it took everything he had to defend himself, unable to make a move. Against an opponent like this, a single wrong move would spell his death.

The fight continued for a short while, but it abruptly stopped when an unknown voice shouted out. The yakuza all fell back, and from the building stepped an elderly man with the imposing presence of a wild animal.

"Enough of this, I can't stand here and watch more of my men get hospitalized, or worse."

Giorno had a good idea of who this man was, despite never seeing him before in his life. There was only one person who fit his description, the leader of this yakuza group, Raiga Fujimura.

"A wise choice, I did not come here for war either," Giorno lowered his stance, taking a non threatening posture. "I believe we both wish for the same thing, peace."

The older man stepped forward, his cane clicking against the wooden floor. His traditional Japanese clothes carried a tiger skin pattern, fitting of his status in the gang.

"What I want, is for this _ridiculous_ group of yours to get out of my city," Raiga's tone was firm, it didn't seem like there was any room to negotiate.

Giorno had two options; he could leave and abandon his control of this city. Or, he could destroy this man and his entire organization right here and now. He didn't really want to cause such a high profile event as the death of an entire yakuza group, but he didn't see much else he could do. That was until a new party appeared, complicating things.

"What's going on here?! Don't you dare hurt my grandpa!" the voice of a young girl, probably still in high school, cut into the conversation. Giorno turned his head towards the gate, seeing a brunette in a school uniform with her hair pulled back in a short ponytail. On her arm she carried a bag with a traditional bamboo sword used for kendo, a shinai.

"Taiga, get back, this is nothing you need to concern yourself with." It seemed his words fell on deaf ears, as the girl known as Taiga drew her shinai, taking a combat stance.

She moved with a speed and skill that surprised even Giorno, easily breaking through his gang's defense. She came up against Taka, but even when faced with a real sword the determination on her face didn't waver at all. The two exchanged strikes for a few moments, neither one making an impact.

Taiga's shinai deftly slipped past Taka's stance, hitting her square on the forehead. Taka Taniguchi, one of the most skilled swordsmen Giorno had met outside of Heroic Spirits was knocked out by this teenage girl like it was nothing.

Perhaps this was the start of a new Holy Grail War, and this unassuming girl was actually a Servant. The thought of that was absurd, so Giorno discarded the possibility right away. But still, she had devastated his men with ease, he was more impressed than angry at it really.

"Don't worry Boss, I'll take care of this," The last remaining member of Giorno's gang still standing stepped forward, an overconfident smirk on his face. He raised his bat towards her, pointing the top of it out. "Listen up girl; I'm Angelo, one of the three officers of Passione! If you surrender now, maybe I'll go easy on y-"

The girl stepped in without letting him finish, the tip of her bamboo blade striking him in the ribs with a crack. Angelo fell to the ground unceremoniously, hitting the ground with a soft thud.

Giorno could barely keep his blank expression going, for the scene before him was quite absurd. A schoolgirl had defeated his best men, easily. Well, while Angelo was one of his officers, he held the position more for being the first member, and not for any real strength.

Off to the side, Raiga Fujimura was sighing, his hand pressed against his forehead. No matter how much he tried, that damn girl wouldn't stop getting involved in things he was trying to keep her out of.

Taiga rushed at Giorno, her sword moving faster than before. Blocking it with his arm, Giorno threw a punch. But she held the advantage in range, and dodged it without trouble.

As the fight continued, Taiga's face started to show a troubled look, as if she didn't understand how Giorno was still standing. Using this to his advantage, he waited for her to make a mistake. Finally, his moment arrived, and he slipped past her defenses. Grabbing the shinai in one hand, he thrust out his other and caught her, his fingers wrapping around her neck.

Giorno lifted the girl off the ground, tightening his grip. Her face was that of terror, having realized the predicament she was in. the girl struggled, kicking her feet at him, but he didn't let go.

Suddenly, Giorno saw a path to a third option in the resolution of this gang war. His expression unchanged, he looked back towards Raiga. As expected, the man was showing clear signs of distress; this girl had called him grandpa after all.

"My gang shall be allowed to operate in this city without interference by yours," Giorno continued to crush the girl's throat, just enough to make a point. "Also, you will provide my gang with one of your holdings, to serve as our main headquarters."

Giorno didn't have to explain what would happen if he didn't comply. It wasn't long before the old Yakuza boss caved to Giorno's demands. As soon as he agreed, Giorno dropped the girl to the ground. Choking for breath and clutching her throat, Taiga looked up at Giorno with tear filled eyes.

Giorno gathered the members of his group that could still stand, and began the slow process of removing themselves from the premises. Giorno remained behind, finalizing the deal he had just forcibly brokered.

With the deed to a moderately sized Japanese house in arm, Giorno returned to his hotel. As he entered, he found Shirou asleep on the sofa, the television still on. Giorno picked him up, moving him into one of the room's beds.

They would have a lot to do the next day, but for now, he just wanted to rest. He lay down on his own bed, slowly drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Shirou gripped his bamboo sword tightly, his sweaty hands making the grip uncomfortably slippery. His breath was ragged, and by all accounts he should have long stopped to rest. But the boy did rest, the only thing on the ten year old's mind was his training.

"Haahh!" He charged towards his opponent, his sword primed and ready to unleash a furious strike. But he never got the chance to swing it, his opponent's shinai easily knocking his from his hands, before landing a heavy blow against his side.

Shirou gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain as he hit the tatami mat floor of the dojo. He rolled across the floor, retrieving his shinai before blocking an incoming overhead strike. The force of the attack sent a shockwave of pain through his arms, and it took all of his strength just to stop the sword.

Despite fighting a child in a mere sparring match, his opponent wasn't going easy on him. Her sword skills were at a master's level, and she seemed to enjoy toying with him, a twisted smile painted behind the curtain of red hair hanging over her face.

Shirou wasn't entirely sure why he was wasting time training swordsmanship, he should be spending his time mastering his Stand, but the Boss insisted. Every day at the same time in the afternoon, he would train his sword skills with Miss Taka, his primary instructor. She didn't teach him the style of Japanese sport fencing known as Kendo, but instead drilled into him the basics of true Kenjutsu style swordsmanship.

On days when she wasn't available to train him, he learned mixed martial arts from one of her direct subordinates, Kai Shun. Shirou would be lying if he wasn't terrified of the man when he saw him, for he was a massive beast in size, and his violent personality matched his appearance quite well.

Even with all of this effort, he could still only be called a beginner in terms of melee combat skills, something that frustrated the young blonde to no end. He was wasting his time here; he couldn't get true strength with this training. The only path to power in the boy's mind was that of his Boss, mastering his Stand.

But his training focused around that had been mostly the same, he couldn't seem to summon his stand no matter how hard he tried, like he had a mental block he couldn't surmount. In order to try and bypass it he spent most of his time meditating, at least when Giorno wasn't having him trained in some other skill set.

Giorno had even gone out of his way to find a Magus who functioned outside of the Association to try and teach the boy some basic magecraft, but the woman had returned to Mifune city after only a few weeks. It seemed Shirou's aptitude for magecraft was extremely low, though not nonexistent.

Sometimes when he couldn't sleep, Shirou would still try and practice his spellwork, but his success rate was abysmal, succeeding in casting a single rune spell once out of every hundred times.

This failure only added to his determination that his Stand was the only hope for him. It was something only he could do, his unique Stand power, if he could just draw it out…

His thoughts about his various trainings were cut short by a bamboo sword striking him on the forehead, sending him flying across the room. Too exhausted to retaliate, Shirou didn't bother getting back up. After seeing his intention was to stop, Taka put her sword back on the rack on the wall and quietly left the dojo.

Several hours later and Shirou groggily awoke on the floor, still exactly where he had landed during the fight. Groaning, he picked himself off the floor. Shirou headed for the main house, his destination being the bath.

Shirou was still not comfortable living in Fuyuki city, but the estate they used as a base for Passione was nowhere near the destruction he had survived. It was entirely unconnected however, for though Shirou was unaware of the events of the Holy Grail War, Giorno had learned this house belonged to the Magus Killer Kiritsugu Emiya. Purchased as a secondary base for the Einzberns after their castle had suffered extensive damage, but it never saw any use as the war ended before they had moved in.

Shirou didn't know about the Grail, or that Giorno was involved in the disaster that befell him. The Servant turned human had planned to tell him eventually, but the right time to do so never seemed to present itself.

After getting out of the bath, Shirou's stomach growled loudly. Heading for the kitchen, he noticed a significant absence of any of the gang, including the Boss. It was rare for there to be none of them around, was something going on? Shirou never liked being left out of the loop, but he understood why they would. Right now, he was nothing more than a liability; he needed to become strong enough that he could help them.

All he wanted was to be strong, strong enough that he could protect everyone he cared about. Unlike that time, he wouldn't ever be that helpless again. Shirou stopped in his tracks, a painful tightness in his chest assaulting him.

He couldn't breathe, that's what it felt like despite the fact he was still able to draw breath. But even when he did, his body told him he was dying. He fell to his knees, his vision going white.

He was in a field of flames, like something straight out of a depiction of hell itself. The fire burned his body, the smoke choked him, and there was no end in sight. It hurt, he had to get out of there, but his body was dying. The sound of something massive crashing through the city filled his ears, what was that noise?

In the distance, something that looked like a man at first appeared. But as Shirou drew closer to it, it was revealed as what it truly was. A monster towered over the city, so large he could barely see its head. It was something out of a horror movie, but this was no actor in a rubber suit.

It turned towards him, its monstrous eyes locking only the boy. Shirou's body wouldn't respond; he was completely frozen in place. He wanted to scream, to run away, but he couldn't. In that moment, he wished for nothing but to be saved, for a hero to come and rescue him from this nightmare. But no hero came, he was alone.

Damn it, if he was just a little stronger! If he was strong, he could do something, just like the Boss. He was sure Giorno wouldn't be afraid of this thing, Giorno would fight it with all of his power, and he would win.

Shirou woke up on the floor of the kitchen, panting heavily. His hands were shaking in fear, but the feeling started to subside. Clenching his fist, he punched the floor, doing more damage to himself then to it. Damn it, this was why he was so weak, why he couldn't summon his Stand.

Several hours later, and the boy had found himself at a certain cherry tree in downtown Fuyuki. The surrounding area had been transformed into a memorial park, but it was the only thing that seemed to be able to grow in it. Despite being dead center of the site of the fire Shirou wasn't nervous to come here, gazing up at this tree made him feel safe.

Ever since moving back to Fuyuki last year, Shirou had started coming here semi regularly. He would come and sit under the tree for hours, letting his mind drift aimlessly. Whether or not Giorno knew of this, he was unsure, but the man had done nothing to stop it.

Shirou closed his eyes and crossed his arms behind his head, and without realize it had fallen asleep. When he finally stirred from his slumber the sky had darkened considerably, that wasn't good. Giorno never got mad at him for walking around during the day, but the last time he was home after dark… let's just say he never wanted to see that again.

He stood up in a hurry and prepared to run faster than he had ever tried to before, if he was lucky maybe he'd still make it. But just as he was about to leave, a scream split apart the peaceful atmosphere of the empty park. Normally, a young child's instinct would be to run away from a blood curdling scream, but Shirou wasn't a normal child.

Shirou didn't know what he could even do with his level of strength, but if he didn't try he would go against everything he lived for. He wanted to help people, and if he ignored a single person who needed help then what was he but a hypocrite?

What Shirou found at the end of his sprint, was a terrified looking woman being held down on the ground, with a man pointing a knife at her throat. Even a ten year old could tell what was going on here, and Shirou's expression hardened in an attempt at mimicking Giorno's stony exterior, and he stepped towards the scene of violence.

"Hey, brutto!" his voice cracked in fear as he shouted towards the man, his entire body shaking. The man looked up, a crazed look in his eyes. Shirou realised far too late that he was in over his head, and suddenly wished he'd stayed out of it.

The man hopped off the woman, waving his knife violently in the air. It was obvious that this man wasn't in his right mind, probably the result of some abuse of drugs. He scratched at his face with his free hand, drawing blood with his fingernails.

Shirou tried to run away, but the man's long legs easily let him catch up. He was tackled to the ground, a hand wrapping around his neck. Panic rose inside of him again, but this time for good reason. If he didn't do something now, he would die. Terrified, he struggled against the man, but his strength was too much for a child to break free of.

He was scared, he didn't want to die here, but there was something else in his mind. If he died now, who would save that woman? The thought of failing at the one thing he desired, of dying without saving a single person, awoke a different feeling in his body.

The air between him and the madman warped, a silver haze appearing in it. The man didn't react, he most likely couldn't even see it. But Shirou could see it, and he knew exactly what it was. He reached out with his hand and touched it, closing his hand around the shape.

In his hand was a knife, a knife that looked exactly like the one in the crazed man's hand. The man's eye bulged at the sudden appearance of the knife, and he swung his own down at Shirou.

Shirou deflected the knife with his own, using the skills he had learned from Taka. This man was strong, but he was nothing compared to the gang members he sparred with daily! Shirou plunged his knife into the man's arm, and he released his grip on the boy's neck.

Shirou scrambled to his feet, looking down at the knife in his hand. Was this has stand power? There had to be more to it then this, surely? Giorno had told him his Stand looked like a humanoid type, a full figure that gave the power it's name.

But all he had was a knife, and a pretty useless one at that. After using it to deflect one hit and deliver another, it had broken in half. Shirou threw away the useless blade, and focused his mind. If he could create another, maybe he could win.

But no blade appeared, his power not manifesting at all. Shirou's eyes widened in horror, he was yet again completely defenseless. The rampaging drug user dashed at him, his knife raised over his head, Shirou closed his eyes and prepared for the worst, but nothing happened.

Tentatively, he opened his eyes, and what he saw surprised even him. Standing between himself and the man, was a golden haired figure in a flamboyant suit. Shirou was at a loss for words, how?

Giorno gripped the man's arm tightly, stopping his knife from reaching its target. With a twist of his wrist, he broke the man's arm. But Giorno didn't stop there, with a fist clad in golden energy; he punched a hole through the man's chest.

"A piece of trash like you doesn't deserve to share the same city as me," Giorno let the man's body drop to the ground, pulling his bloodied arm free. He turned to Shirou, who was frozen in confusion.

"B-Boss?! How, when?" Shirou stammered, his mind a jumble of words all fighting to come out. "I-I can explain! I just-"

"I don't need an explanation, Shirou," Giorno walked past him, not even looking at the boy once. "You did well, but try and remember your own limits next time."

"O-Of course, I won't make this mistake again, sir!" Shirou horridly followed the older man, thankful that he hadn't been scolded.

He looked down at his hand, balling it into a fist. It might have been weak and incomplete, but he had done it, he had used his Stand power. Soon, he thought, he would have the strength he desired.

* * *

She awoke to the sound of a morning new program, the low electric hum of her cheap television filling the room. It had remained on since the night before, wasting her precious electricity. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but had simply run out of steam and passed out. The blonde woman shivered as she sat up in her small single room apartment.

The walls were dingy, her furniture was old and worn out, and her sink wouldn't stop dripping. These were the conditions she had to endure every day, and it was maddening to think about how far she had fallen.

A quick glance of her clock told her she was about to be late for work, she had overslept again. She quickly pulled on her work clothes, placing a baseball cap over her messy blonde hair. She sighed, this would have to do. Zipping up her jacket, it caught at her chest, but she managed to force it closed with some effort.

She let out another sigh, had they gotten bigger again? She wasn't sure how everyone else did it, growing was nothing but an inconvenience. Soon she feared that none of her current clothing would fit her, and she wept for the state of her bank account when that day came.

But she was stronger then this, she wouldn't let such petty concerns drag her down. Slapping her face lightly to wake up fully, she headed out the door. Taking hold of her bicycle, which she had acquired after finding a perfectly good one thrown away in the trash behind her home, she headed down the street.

The cold morning air cut through her thin jacket, and the fact that she was wearing short pants that barely covered any of her legs didn't help matters. She made a mental note to buy more long pants as soon as she could afford to as she cruised down the main street. Various passersby waved to her, and she returned the gesture.

She was thankful for the kindness of the townspeople, who had accepted her with open arms when she moved in almost four years ago. If they hadn't been so kind she wasn't sure if she'd have made it this long. Japan was not the most hospitable towards outsiders, and it's not like she looked very Japanese. In fact, a day didn't go by where she wasn't asked if she was American or British by some curious party.

Her answer was always the same, "British, of course!" but it seemed that it wasn't obvious to the average Japanese citizen.

After a short time, she arrived at her current employer. Over the last four years she held many jobs, often multiple at the same time, but for right now the only place of work she had was this. A famous overseas chain restaurant, which was quickly gaining ground around the world: WcDonalds.

The blonde girl dashed into the store, quickly apologizing for being late as she took her place behind the counter. This was her life, day in and day out, taking the orders of countless people. Over and over, it almost seemed to her that she was trapped in some layer of hell, for nothing ever seemed to change.

But she forced a smile and did it anyways, because she had to survive. Without working she would have no money, and without money she would surely die of starvation, or worse. And that was unacceptable, not while she still had unfinished business.

Her fist started to shake when she thought about _him_, the one responsible for all of this. He was even more of a monster than she had originally thought. There should have been no way for him to win against her, it was impossible. And yet he had, he had defeated her utterly and trapped her in this nightmare.

The Counter Guardian Arturia Pendragon, with the full backing of the Earth's own power, should have been unbeatable. She was an unstoppable killing machine with no emotions, cutting down the threats to the world with her immense power. Until Alaya had summoned her to defeat _him_, that is.

He was an aberration that shouldn't exist in the world; his mere presence altered the earth at a fundamental level. Normally, when summoned as a Counter Guardian, she did not actually experience it as a conscious being, but rather she gained the information of the result after it happened, like a computer receiving data. But when he had struck her during their fight, something changed.

Her body was human again, cut off almost completely from Alaya. That in itself was an impossible feat, but it felt as though she had been pulled from the throne of heroes by force, a power a single human shouldn't possess.

Her body had also started to grow, as if the aging process that was stunted when she pulled the sword from the stone had been kick-started. Just what on earth was he? She wondered this almost every day of her current life, but couldn't come up with a suitable answer.

But even if she was no longer connected to the Counter Force, it didn't change the fact that she was a Counter Guardian, and she would finish her job. She had to defeat him, to kill him. Maybe if she did, just maybe, there was a chance it would fix the damage he had caused.

"Arturia, did you get bigger _again?_" suddenly, her introspective thoughts were cut off by the loud voice of her manager. The woman snuck up on her, grabbing Arturia's chest. "Come on girl, you're making me jealous here!"

"I-I don't think this is appropriate workplace behavior," Arturia's face went red, but her protests fell on deaf ears, her boss continuing to grope her like a lecherous old man. "P-Please stop…"

Finally, the women let go of the embarrassed girl. She adjusted her glasses and gazed up and down Arturia's body, a terrifying shine in her eyes. Had the world's morals fallen so far since her time, was this acceptable behavior?

"Sorry, I just can't control myself when I see pretty girls!"

That statement did nothing to make Arturia feel any better, in fact, it made things worse. She quickly excused herself and ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

She stared at the girl in the mirror, and she barely recognized her. Bags under her eyes from lack of sleep, a disheveled look unbecoming of a king, and her rapidly changing body all added up to create an image of a woman she didn't know.

She started to cry, tears running down her face uncontrollably. This is the reward she got for serving her country? What she got for sacrificing everything? She even sold her soul to Alaya to save her country from destruction, but this was the end result. Where had things gone so wrong?

She wiped away her tears with her sleeve and steeled her resolve, it wouldn't be much longer. Her connection with the Counter Force was broken, but it wasn't severed, and slowly she felt her powers returning. It wouldn't be long now before she could wield her blade again, and then she would finish things.

She would kill the man known as Giorno Giovanna.


	10. Chapter 9: Shadow

It was the fiercest battle of the Holy Grail War, and it wasn't even officially part of it. But Giorno considered it a part of the War, if only because it happened directly after. Saber had sacrificed herself and her dream to stop the rampaging golem created by Caster, but yet she stood in front of him.

Giorno knew it wasn't the same Saber; for one thing, her armor was entirely different. And gone was the passionate fighting style she held, instead she moved with mechanical precision. He didn't know at the time however, that the girl in front of him was a Beast of Alaya, a Counter Guardian. Had he known this he might have paused in his fight against her, but he didn't understand the strength of the being before him, and so he acted as if she was no different from the Saber he remembered.

Had he known she was a Counter Guardian, maybe he would have lost. That split second where he doubted he could win against the force of the world itself could have spelled his downfall. But he was oblivious to this fact as an outsider to the world, and so he never once considered losing a possibility.

And when his fist cut through her Excalibur like it was nothing, he struck her down without hesitation. His punch landed squarely against her face, shattering the mask that covered her eyes.

His power was not one governed by this world's rules, a power that neared the realm of gods. In that instant the world shattered, his Requiem resetting the Counter Guardian to 'zero.' But she didn't disappear, quite the opposite actually. Not even Giorno could have predicted his power would cause such an odd aftereffect.

He broke her chains to the world with his requiem, and either through some strange function of it or his original stand ability, she gained a physical body. He had returned her to her base state, that of a living human. What this meant to the throne of heroes, to the Counter Force, he had no idea.

Was she a copy still, or had he restored her to her original form, removing her from the Throne of Heroes entirely. He often wondered that in the following years, both about her and also himself. Was he the copy of Giorno summoned by the Grail, or was he now the true Giorno Giovanna?

He awoke suddenly, the early morning light peering through his window. Slowly, he rose to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes. Even after becoming flesh and blood once more, he only dreamed of the past, the curse of a Heroic Spirit it seemed. More and more he was dreaming of that fight against the White Saber, even though he hadn't seen her since the initial fight.

She was out there somewhere, still living in this world, and he was entirely at fault. He was no stranger to being thrust into a world unfamiliar to him, and he wouldn't wish such a tragedy on even his worst enemy. So why then, was he glad she was still here? The thought of one day being able to fight against her again filled him with a determination like nothing else, he wanted to finish their fight from the war.

The pure Counter Guardian Saber had been immensely strong, but it was not a satisfying victory, for she fought with no emotion. That cold, empty shell of a hero wasn't the opponent he longed for.

Even with everything he had gained he felt empty, unfulfilled. He wanted to trade blows with her again, to cross ideals in their most pure form. Maybe then he could finally be free from his lingering regrets from the war, the last thread left dangling before him.

Giorno shuffled to the kitchen of his estate and pulled open the fridge, retrieving a plastic cup of chocolate pudding. One might assume if they saw the occupants of the house that these were for Shirou, but the truth was that Giorno bought them for himself. Peeling off the film covering, he sat down in the main living room and started to eat.

Shortly after he had done so and Shirou had wandered into the living room himself, still looking half asleep. When the boy caught sight of him with a pudding cup in his hands, his sleepy expression vanished and was replaced by annoyance.

"N-No fair Boss, that was the last one!" Shirou's shock was that of a normal child, if one didn't know any better, one might assume these two were normal family members, brothers perhaps.

For the first time in a long while, the Giovanna household had a peaceful day. The gang was running smoothly under the command of his three regional officers, the peace brokered with Raiga Fujimora's group had settled into a stable status quo, and there were no enemies to deal with.

It was, quite frankly, incredibly boring. Giorno spent the majority of his free time studying this world, learning the differences from it and his own. He had no magical ability of his own, but he dug into the world of magecraft nonetheless, not wanting to be ignorant of such a powerful force.

Shirou's training had reached a plateau, if he wanted to become a stronger Stand user, there was nothing he could do but use it. And with no enemy to speak of it wasn't like he got much of a chance to stretch his metaphorical legs.

Giorno considered all of this and more, trying to think of the best choice for the twelve year old boy in his care. While his physical training was quite high, and he knew all about Stands and Magic, he lacked a certain set of skills. Giorno figured now was as good a time as any, and turned his head to face the boy.

"Shirou, come sit down, there's something I'd like to discuss," his flat tone had no indication of emotion, but the boy followed his direction immediately as if threatened.

"Y-Yeah boss, anything!" Shirou smiled, but he was only forcing himself to do so, hiding his fear.

"Shirou, I think it's time for you to get a real education," Giorno leaned back, taking a more relaxed posture. "I think you should go to school."

Shirou stared at him for a good three seconds without responding, or even reacting. Finally, he unfroze, his face twisting into a puzzled expression.

"Why, I mean, shouldn't I focus on my Stand training? I still can't manifest the full thing for more than a second at a time-"

"You should expand your horizons Shirou, not everything has to be about Stands, or the Gang," Giorno stood up, turning to face the door into the yard. "Even I went to school for a time, it was a good life experience. And you don't have any friends your own age either, isn't that hard for you?"

"I-I don't need friends, I have the gang…" his tone didn't match his words, clearly showing that he wasn't confident in what he was saying.

"Consider it, that's all I'll say for now," Giorno slid open the door and stepped outside, leaving Shirou alone in the room.

''..!" Both Shirou and Giorno tensed up at the same moment, a wave of unease washing over them. It was this properties defense mechanism, a Bounded Field that warned of intruders with hostile intent. It was the first time he had actually felt it, but he knew it existed.

Giorno jumped back, a flash of white and silver crashing into the ground with immense force right where he had just stood. Shirou ran out of the house and stood next to Giorno, his body shaking badly.

Shirou was at a loss for words, his eyes unable to accept what they saw. He had only seen them once before, and even then only briefly, but he couldn't forget that sight. Standing before them, clad in pure white armor with a sword right out of a fantasy novel, was the Counter Guardian Arturia Pendragon.

It was like fate had conspired to bring them back together, for Giorno couldn't imagine better timing. Just a short time before he was dreaming of this moment, and it was finally at hand.

"Aberration, I've come for your head!" she raised her arm, pointing her sword towards Giorno. "Prepare yourself for the next life, if you'll even go there, you monster!"

Shirou stepped out in front of Giorno, to both his and Arturia's surprise. Every nerve in his body told him to run away, that he would die if he tried to fight, but he did it anyways. A hazy shape appeared at his side, and he stared at the intruder with a determined look.

"D-Don't think I'll let you hurt the Boss," Shirou threw his arms out as if to block her from Giorno, more symbolic than anything. "You'll have to go through me first, _puttana!"_

Arturia wasn't sure what to make of the situation, she had come to defeat her mortal enemy, but a small blonde child had interfered, and insulted her, in _Italian_. Her confusing only lasted a moment before Giorno pushed the boy aside and approached her.

"I accept your challenge, Saber," he answered her with a cold expression, as always. "But I'd rather not wreck an entire neighborhood on a personal squabble, let us take this fight elsewhere."

She looked ready to cut him down then and there without regard for any others, but his words gave her pause. Even as a Counter Guardian, she couldn't reasonably annihilate an entire town just to fulfill her duty, not after her conscious thought was returned to her body. Reluctantly, she had to agree with him.

"Very well, the park then, it should be relatively deserted after midnight," she lowered her sword and turned away, walking across the yard. "if you're not there however, I _will_ bring the fight back to this place, be sure of that."

Arturia leapt, easily clearly the fence around the property. Giorno's posture relaxed and he sat down on the edge of the porch. Shirou stood, frozen like a statue. It had taken all of his willpower to stand up to her, and now he didn't possess enough to even more an inch.

Shirou fell to his knees, his breathing heavier than usual. He could feel the power within her, what was he thinking? There was no way he would have survived a single second against a foe that powerful.

"A-Are you really going to fight her?" Shirou glanced at Giorno, whose gaze blankly looked out over the horizon. "I mean, you must have beaten her before, so you can do it again, right?"

"I'm not so sure," Giorno stood up, stretching his arms out in front of him. "All I know is that I have to try, because she's my _enemy. _And it's not in my nature to let my enemies roam freely."

There was more to it than that, but he didn't care to get into it with Shirou at the moment. The boy had enough to worry about without long standing rivalries with legendary heroes.

It was exactly the turn of events he wished for, so why was he so hesitant? He still wanted to fight her, and there was no way he would lose, so why did something feel wrong in the back of his mind.

Giorno had no way of knowing the strange feeling of his was an instinctual sense of impending danger, or that more was threatening his city then a rogue Counter Guardian.

* * *

A nondescript black car drove steadily down a winding dirt road. Pulling to a stop in front of a building that looked more like a medieval castle then a house anyone in the modern era would live in, a man stepped out of the car.

He slowly approached the building, another figure from the car quickly following him, this time a young girl no more than fifteen, but probably younger. The man's long straight black hair swayed in the gentle wind as he walked, a long red scarf trailing behind him.

He was dressed in a fashion that both appeared as a modern man of business, but that also carried a classical style fitting one of high status. Along with his well defined features it would be easy to see him and assume he was of great importance, and in a way he was.

The girl wore a heavy coat over her small body, its huge sleeves dangling loosely at her side. Her face was obscured by a long hood, but anyone could tell by her body shape that she was a woman.

An elderly man greeted them at the door to the castle-like mansion, and ushered them inside without a second thought.

"You must be the investigators from the Clock Tower, I'm glad you could make it on such short notice," his words carried a kind tone, but there was an air of unease. Not surprising, considering the circumstances.

"I'm afraid I don't have all day, if you'd be so kind as to show me to the scene so I can get started," The man pulled a pack of cigarettes from his suit pocket, taking one and placing it in his mouth loosely. As if he remembered something important, he glanced over to the elderly man. "How rude of me, is this alright?"

"Yes, of course, the Master wouldn't have denied a Lord from the Association," the man smiled and started down the grand entrance hall towards a set of spiral stairs. "Follow me then, and I'll take you too him."

The younger of the two men lit his cigarette, not with a match or a lighter, but with a snap of his fingers. It was a wholly inefficient use of his admittedly subpar mana stores, but undeniably a stylish act that loud and clearly announced "I am a Magus" to any who witnessed it. This is of course, the entire reason why he did it that way.

Once at the top of the stairs, their guide stopped dead in his tracks, a fearful look in his eyes. Trembling, he turned to the guests and pointed at one of the doors.

"Second door to the left, if you will, I'd much prefer to stay here if you don't mind, it isn't a sight I'd care to see twice." The sight of the elderly man on the verge of tears was rather surreal, as he had been fine moments ago. The Magus blew out a puff of smoke and headed towards the door, the girl following him closely.

Pushing open the door, he was immediately assaulted with the stench of death, one pungent enough to alter the entire atmosphere of the room. He didn't really like this kind of work and would much rather remain at his instructor duties at the Clock Tower, but he reluctantly pressed forward.

On the floor, directly in the center of the room, was a corpse. More than just a corpse, it was a highly mutilated corpse that appeared to have been cut apart from the inside out. Kneeling over the body, he began his examination, while the girl with him stood in silence at the door.

"Same as the last one, as expected," he stood up, heading over to a desk in the corner of the room. "Poor bastard had every Magic Circuit ripped out of his body, from the looks of it while he was still alive at that."

The girl nodded, already familiar with the case they were following. The world of magic was plagued by a string of murders within the community that all followed the same pattern. Magi in relatively strong bloodlines cut down with ease, and their magic circuits removed.

Most likely this was the work of two or more assailants, for the necessary skills to both kill or subdue a powerful magus and then remove their circuits with spiritual surgery were possessed by relatively few suspects. But the investigation was going nowhere, the bodies continued to pile up, but the lack of evidence was astounding.

"Gray, what do you think?" the man turned to his young assistant, hold his cigarette between the fingers on his left hand.

The girl crouched over the body, her eyes darting around its wounds.

"An Executioner, perhaps?"

"Foolish girl, what would those stuffy old men of the Church be doing slaying Magi?" Of course, the thought had already occurred to him, but he denied the possibility more out of a strong desire not to get involved with the Church more than necessary.

But still, he was at a loss, he couldn't find a common thread between the victims outside of the fact they were mages, and what on earth could anyone need with this many Magic Circuits? It's not like you could just implant them into your own body, the shock of adding a foreign substance like that would kill just about anyone in seconds.

The only thing he could think of was a possible use in homunculi or, an even greater stretch, golems. But there were no mages alive with the technical skill to pull off something like that save for maybe one of the true Sorcerers. And he highly doubted someone of that power would bother with such a roundabout way as to murder lesser mages, so he was back at square one.

"An enforcer from the Association is also possible, though it's likely this avenue was already checked." The girl stood up with her last suggestion, clearly out of ideas.

"In any matter, there's nothing new to learn from this one either," The man left the room, leaving behind the grotesque corpse. Soon after, the girl known as Gray followed him, remaining silent. "Let us return to the Clock Tower for now, until a new avenue of investigation opens up."

And so the odd pair of magi left the castle behind, the trip having been just about as pointless as he'd expected. Really now, did the Tower think he had unlimited free time to look into every little problem they were having? Admittedly, this is more than a small problem, but surely he wasn't the only one who could handle it.

But that was a problem for later, for now, he just wanted to get back home. He'd had enough of playing detective for a while, but at the back of his mind he had a sinking feeling that this wouldn't be the end of it.

* * *

Zouken Matou was a very patient man, so patient in fact that he was willing to wait hundreds of years for a single plan to pay off. He had expected his current project to pay off after about ten to twelve years, so the current developments were rather outside of his calculations.

The Tohsaka girl had been adopted into his family line almost six years ago now, and ever since he had been working to turn her into a useful asset. The process was slow, but soon she would have become indistinguishable from a legitimate heir to his bloodline. Adding to this, after the spectacular failure of the fourth Holy Grail War, he had recovered the fragments of the previous vessel, and with a little work had integrated them into the girl's Magic Circuits.

He had intended to use her in a long term plan to repower his dying bloodline, and to achieve his ultimate wish, but things were taking an unexpected turn. Zouken was of course aware of the Holy Grail's corruption, but it didn't matter to him for his plans would work regardless. However, he hadn't expected that the blackened Holy Grail would have an impact on the Girl, or vice versa, but that was evidently the case.

The speed at which his false holy grail had formed was directly connected to her mental state, sometimes wildly accelerating due to her negative emotions. He had tried his hardest to stabilize the girl, but nothing seemed to work. It didn't help that her 'brother' did everything in his power to antagonize the girl.

Shinji was a problem, a pawn in his game that was less than useless. Born without any functional magic circuits, despite attempts to circumvent that, he was born without magic. Even more useless than his father, Byakuya, he did nothing but get in the way.

But the boy was a minor concern, for the issue with Sakura was getting out of hand. The corruption of the Grail was beginning to spill forth through her connection with it, only a little for now, but the evil contained within the Greater Grail was beginning to manifest. It was too soon, the next ritual had yet to begin, if she lost control now he wouldn't be able to control her.

And it would garner unwanted attention from the Magus Association if a crisis of that scale started now, outside of the known ritual of the Holy Grail War. He had to think fast if he was going to rein in the girl before it was too late.

The will of the Grail manifested as a black, void-like shadow. It had begun to attack those in the town with a high concentration of mana, draining them to near death. It was only a matter of time before it actually started to kill its victims, and at that point Zouken would be out of options.

Zouken wouldn't let a setback like this keep him from his dream, he would reach paradise, no matter the cost. Even if he had to make a deal with his enemy, he would survive, that was how he lived every day of his exceedingly long life.

He didn't want to do it, but there was one potential ally in this situation, a survivor of the last war. Kariya had died during the war, failing to get results, but not the Servant he had made a desperate contract with. From what he had seen, that man possessed a power that could fix things, it could possibly even repair the corrupted grail system.

The question then, was how to best approach him. It was doubtful he could walk into the man's front door and ask for a partnership. And at this point, the Servant was likely aware of who and what Zouken was, at least to some degree.

No, he would have to negotiate a deal that made it seem as if he had no choice, to make him feel obligated to help. Could he use the man's connection with Kariya perhaps? He wasn't sure if it would be a strong enough argument, but it was the best he had for now.

The immortal patriarch of the Matou clan began to work, the new machinations of his plan spinning in his mind. He put together everything he knew about the Servant reborn into the world, and the life he currently led. He was often seen with a young child around twelve, and then it struck him.

It seems that just maybe, for once, the boy he called his 'grandson' would prove useful. The old man chucked to himself, the sound being more terrifying than anything else. The elder magus left the room he was currently in, heading for the main library of the estate.

While Shinji could not actualize magecraft with his withered useless circuits, it didn't stop the boy from studying as much as he could. If he kept this up his entire life it might even be possible for him to become a well known researcher at the Association. But it most certainly would not, as the boy probably hoped, give him the ability to actually use magecraft.

As expected, he found the boy buried in a dusty old tome of general magecraft. As soon as he entered the room, Shinji looked up, his entire body freezing in terror. He might not be a magus, but he seemed somewhat aware of the nature of Zouken's body, his body warning him of the monster in front of him.

"Shinji, would you care to help your dear grandfather with a small task?" Zouken's mouth curled into a smile as he spoke, his hand reaching out to invite Shinji into his plot. Going along with whatever Zouken had planned was more like making a deal with the devil then anything else, but Shinji had no power to resist, and the boy nervously stood up and walked over to the man.

"W-Whatever you need, grandfather."

* * *

The moon hung low overhead, casting the lone man in an unearthly glow. He stood as still as a statue at the center of the empty park. The cold night air cut though his body like a knife, but the man appeared unfazed by the harsh fall weather.

The man was Giorno Giovanna, answering the challenge issued by the Counter Guardian Arturia Pendragon. His muscles tensed at every rustle of the leaves around him, his senses all primed for combat. The snap of someone stepping on a branch caught his attention, and he whipped around on the spot, but it was just a stray dog.

Against an opponent of this level, a single second of carelessness could cost him the fight, or even his life. So his battle senses were heightened to the maximum from the beginning, he wouldn't allow anything to slip past him undetected. So when the swordswoman attempted to catch him by surprise as he was distracted by a wild animal, it was actually her who was caught off guard.

"Muda!" He spun around, deflecting her sword with a roundhouse kick. "Sneak attacks don't suit you, you're not _Assassin_."

"I'm not Saber either," the woman replied to his jab, her expression hardening. "I was not summoned by the Grail into a Class Container, and as such my strength isn't limited to a mere _Saber's._"

She dashed forward with a burst of mana induced speed, clearing the gap between them in the blink of an eye. Her sword lashed out like it had a mind of its own, and it wanted nothing more than to claim his head.

She fought like a machine, her skills finely honed as a Beast of Alaya. The perfection of her sword technique, it was forged to do nothing more than cut down her foe. Unlike her style as Saber, which could be said to be an imitation of an emotionless fighting style, this was truly without passion. No anger or frustration seeped into her actions, even while she struggled against him.

It was boring. Giorno stopped even dodging her attacks, parrying her latest volley with a single arm. She charged, and he swept her aside with ease. The white clad swordswoman fell to the ground, her pristine armor becoming stained with mud. But still she fought without anger, suppressing all of her rage towards him.

This fight, this fated battle he had waited over four years for… this wasn't what he desired. The strength of Saber's attacks had been enough to be a threat even to him, and they only got stronger with her rage towards him. But this robotic style was painfully easy to avoid for him, even if it was technical perfection.

He slipped past her latest swing, stepping into a hard punch aimed for her abdomen. The force of his blow displaced the air around them, sending out a shockwave that scattered dust into the air. Arturia was pushed back, but she remained standing, her blade dug into the ground as an anchor.

She ran back in with an overhead swing, but Giorno caught it effortlessly in his hand, the power of his Stand protecting him from its sharp blade. Even Giorno, whose level of mastery of his emotions was near flawless couldn't hide his disappointment.

"Is this… all you're capable of, Saber?" Giorno pushed away the sword, easily moving it against her will. "You'll never reach me with resolve like that."

"Silence," She pulled back her sword, its blade shining brilliantly under the moonlight. "I am a Counter Guardian, my duty is to defeat threats to Gaia, I can't possibly fail at this task, the world itself is on my side!"

Arturia jumped, slashing through the mortal enemy she had set out to defeat. It was a perfect strike, too fast to dodge and too strong to block, there was no way he could have survived. But when she glanced down at her blade, not a single drop of blood could be seen on its edge.

"..!"

She turned around as fast as she could, but it was still too slow. She was struck from all sides by a series of blows too fast to follow, before being slammed against the ground with a powerful kick. Giorno placed his foot against her neck, pressing her into the ground.

"The resolve you held as a Servant is gone, have you forgotten what it was like to be a hero in your time as a Counter Guardian?"

She struggled against him, but his strength was too much, pinning her down was nothing to him. How, how was he so strong? Even with Alaya's power she was helpless against him, it wasn't possible. And he mocked her endlessly, talking about 'resolve' like he knew her personally. Her resolve was stronger than anyone's, the resolve to sacrifice everything for her country, even becoming a tool for the world to do so.

She had the resolve to keep fighting even though it brought nothing but destruction, or pain. The only memories she held as a Counter Guardian were those of misery, she would be summoned as a puppet of the world's will, cut down some threat without mercy, and repeat that endlessly.

She gave up everything, how was that not resolve? She gave her life for her country, and in death she gave her soul to the world. She would show him her resolve by defeating him, it was more than just her duty to the world that drove her, but her personal desire to settle things with him.

With a burst of mana, she threw him off of her, sending the flamboyantly dressed man flying into the air. Before he had time to recover, she leapt into the air, her sword cutting a deadly arc through the sky. Excalibur cleaved through his arm, severing it at the elbow.

But Giorno showed no signs of even feeling any pain, his facing remaining calm. With his remaining hand he caught his dismembered limb as they fell, a golden light enveloping it.

As soon as the two landed, an eagle flew from Giorno's position towards the Counter Guardian. She raised her sword to cut it down, but it changed course before reaching her, disappearing into the sky.

Giorno tore off a strip of cloth from his shirt, tying it around his severed arm to stop the bleeding. He looked over at his opponent, a spark that had been missing before lighting in his eyes.

"That felt more like our battles in the Holy Grail War, Saber," He raised his remaining left arm to his chest, pulling off one of his ladybug shaped brooches. "Show me that passion you had as the King of Knights!"

He dropped the broach on the ground without transforming it before rushing towards her, an action that seemed strange to Arturia, but she ignored it. Her thoughts were too focused on his words of the Grail War, what was he talking about? Sure, she had been summoned into the ritual known as the Fourth Holy Grail War, but she never once fought this man in it.

The realization dawned on her as she moved to counter his attack, the Throne of Heroes exists outside of time, and in a multiverse of endless possibilities. She suddenly realized why he insisted on calling her Saber, why he acted so familiar towards her.

But she wasn't the Saber of this war; if she was then it would be impossible for him to be here, as she was the only surviving Servant of her war. It was possible this man was a Master, but the density of his spiritual energy suggested otherwise. Everything began to click into place.

He was a Servant who broke free from the chains of the Grail System, that in itself wouldn't be enough for Alaya to intervene directly, but the method he used to do so was. The same power that turned her into an existence trapped between human and Counter Guardian, an ability that bordered on the domain of gods.

Giorno's hand, wrapped in the golden glow of his Stand, clashed against her shimmering sword, transforming into a deadly blade of his own. Despite not having a weapon, he intended to meet her as a swordsman, an offer she gladly accepted.

Their clash reached a level of ferocity that threatened to overwhelm even its participants, the air itself becoming thick with bloodlust. But something was still missing, even if Arturia's attacks had become stronger.

Giorno wanted to make her angry, it was that simple. In his fights against Saber, she had become incredibly heated, her normally restrained emotions bursting forth with no control. And this Saber, who held her emotions even tighter inside of herself, only made him want to break her even more.

"Unleash your Noble Phantasm, Saber," he leapt away, landing calmly in the distance. "Normal attacks will never defeat me, but if you truly possess the 'resolve' to strike me down, that attack might reach me."

"You're not good enough to waste my Excalibur on, don't make me laugh."

"Do you believe that, or do you just think you don't have what it takes?" Giorno posed, only able to complete part of it due to his missing arm. "I think you don't have the strength to do it, as a Counter Guardian you had no emotions, but now that you have them again…"

Her hands tightened around her blade's hilt, a small hint of frustration appearing on her face. He wasn't entirely wrong, now that she was in full control of her actions things were more complicated than before. As a Counter Guardian, she unleashed her full power with ease, collateral damage being of no concern.

"If you unleash the full power of Excalibur here, you'll blow away half of the city," Giorno slowly walked towards her, his hand raised as if inviting her to take it. "That is the 'resolve' you lack, Saber. You say this is your duty? Then do your duty, blow me away with the full power of the most famous sword in history!"

She couldn't deny it no matter how much she wanted to, he was right. She didn't have the resolve to slaughter innocent men and women just to kill him, but her anger against him was rising steadily. Soon, her logic began to be overwritten by her rage, the emotions she held back for fear of what she might do if she indulged in them.

Giorno could feel it; something inside of her had changed. The entire atmosphere shifted, making the bloodlust from before seem like a cheap imitation. Her true, dark emotions poured out of her existence, the anger burning in her eyes like nothing he had seen before.

Her power too began to rise, almost in proportion to her anger. Soon it was enough to overwhelm him, more powerful than anything he had felt from her before. It wasn't as much power as when she was a Counter Guardian in full of course, but it rivaled her powers as a Servant. But would it be enough to pierce him?

Her eyes were blinded by her hatred of Giorno, she no longer cared about anything else. As long as he disappeared from this world, she didn't care about the result of her attack. She poured mana into her blade, raising it above her head.

The smiling faces of her neighbors as she biked down the street flashed through her mind, she hesitated for a moment, but quickly resumed charging.

"Ex-"

She saw her boss at work, who acted inappropriately as a form of affection, who was always smiling. She saw her coworkers, the customers, and finally the face of a young child, desperately defending her mortal enemy.

Her power dropped without warning, her built up mana dispersing into the air. She couldn't do it, he was right. The thought that _he_ of all people was correct about anything was enough to incite another blind rage, but instead, she started to cry.

She cursed him, for being so strong, and she cursed herself for being weak. But even then, she refused to give up. Wiping away her tears, she raised her sword in a normal stance. With a new resolve, she calmly looked towards Giorno.

"I'm not your Saber, you know that right?" she asked a question that had been burning inside of her for a long time, finally calm enough to learn the answer.

"It doesn't matter to me; I'm not an Archer either."

She charged in again, clearly intending to end the fight with traditional skill rather than trump cards. This was perfectly acceptable for Giorno, in fact, he had expected it. He raised his hand, and with a snap of his fingers, a golden flash appeared on the ground between them.

A rapidly growing fig tree slammed into Arturia with the force of a bullet, hitting her square on the chin. Confused, she was sent spinning through the air with no clue what had happened, but then she remembered an insignificant detail from before. The broach he threw away, he had positioned them on opposite sides of it!

An eagle flew out of the sky and dove towards Giorno, landing on his outstretched stump of a right arm, before transforming into a new, undamaged limb. Saber's vision began to go dark, the last blow combined with wasting so much energy on her aborted attack catching up with her.

She had never been in control of the fight; it was clear from this that he was toying with her the whole time. But as her conscious mind faded into the dark, she found herself not really caring, having spent all of her anger and frustration in the fight already.

Arturia's next thought was a confused feeling of waking up suddenly, and as her mind finally caught up with what she was seeing, she found herself back in her apartment. She blinked a few times, unsure of what had just happened, was that all a dream?

On her table rested a single object, a letter she didn't remember ever receiving. Picking it up, she opened it without hesitation. Inside the envelope was a single sheet of paper, containing only the words "well fought" on it.

Too distracted by the flood of confused emotions hitting her at that moment, she didn't notice a black shadow appear behind her, rising up in a strange form that resembled an octopus.

Giorno Giovanna too remained blissfully unaware of the danger that lurked within Fuyuki, one he would soon be well acquainted with.

* * *

Fuyuki city was peaceful; there was no supernatural crisis, no gang wars, and the crime rate was lower than ever. It's not to say there was nothing wrong, rumors of mysterious disappearances had begun to circulate, but nothing substantial had come out of any investigations into it thus far.

The swordswoman clad in white armor hadn't tried to attack them since that day, something that Shirou was thankful for, but his boss seemed disappointed. He wasn't sure why Giorno wanted to keep fighting her, and he was too scared to ask. The young boy was also preoccupied thinking about his current mission.

Facing down yakuza was easy, a dangerous rogue magus? Bring it on. But Shirou Giovanna was faced with a task he had no experience with whatsoever, and that terrified him. Today was the day that he started middle school.

He was a late transfer, managing to get in relatively easy thanks to Giorno's influence. Shirou wasn't worried about his actual performance in school; he had studied extensively at home. But walking into an unknown situation, one where he couldn't solve problems with brute force, made him nervous.

First of all, it's not like he could just tell everyone he was a gangster. The nature of his life up to now led to an awkward situation where the entirety of his past was off limits for introductions. It wasn't like he could go around talking about Magic or Stands either, so he was forced to improvise.

As he walked to the school he went over his plan in his head, trying to get his cover story straight. He wasn't sure if he would be able to act convincingly, but he hoped people would just assume he was nervous. Which he was, so at the very least, that part wasn't a lie.

So absorbed in his own thoughts, he paid no attention to where he was walking, and subsequently ran straight into an unknown obstruction. He tumbled to the ground, taking what was very likely another student with him. Shirou, being highly trained in physical activities was perfectly unharmed, but that wouldn't necessarily hold true to whoever he knocked over.

When he opened his eyes, he was gazing down at a small girl, probably in a lower grade than him, with eyes and hair that both looked strangely purple. Shirou expected her to react differently, possibly to cry or yell at him to move, but she merely stared up at him with a blank expression. Despite her lack of reaction, he removed himself from her as quick as he could anyways.

"S-Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," Shirou reached out his hand to her, offering to lift her up. The girl seemed confused, as if she didn't expect anyone to help her. Reluctantly, she took his hand.

The girl was much lighter than he anticipated, and the strength he put into lifting her easily pulled her off the ground. She fell into his body with a soft thud, and Shirou had the sudden realization that they were back in a compromising position.

"That's pretty bold of you for your first day," a strange new voice filled Shirou's ears, and he turned his head to face the source. A boy about his age, wearing the school's uniform was standing off to the side of the entranceway, leaning against a tree. "What do you think you're doing with _my_ sister?"

"N-No, it was just an accident; I didn't mean to do anything bad!" Shirou hastily separated from the girl, his face flushing red. He waved his hands around frantically, trying to dispel whatever thoughts the boy was having.

Upon seeing Shirou's flustered reaction, the boy laughed, apparently quite amused with Shirou's suffering. Walking over to him, the boy's gaze shifted behind Shirou, towards the girl. If it wasn't for this he might never have noticed the girl had timidly hidden behind his back, was she more scared of her brother then the complete stranger who had just pushed her down?

"Sakura, what are you doing?" the boy's eyes narrowed as he looked at her, for a moment Shirou thought he saw signs of disgust in his expression, but it disappeared quickly. The boy pulled her out from behind Shirou, grabbing her hand forcefully. "Try not to be such an embarrassment to the Matou family, it reflects back on me."

Shirou stepped between the siblings, his expression cold as he looked at the boy with wavy bluish black hair. He held himself back, but in that moment he wanted nothing more than to punch that smug look off his face.

"You should treat your sister better, family is important."

"Hurmph," the boy ignored him and turned away, slowly walking towards the school. "You better hurry up, blondie, or you'll be late for your introduction."

Shirou had no choice but to run after him, not wanting to make a bad impression on his first day. He quickly looked back towards the girl, but she was gone from view. As he followed the boy up to his new school, a random thought crossed his mind, how did he know he was the new transfer student? It's possible he just assumed after not recognizing him, but he couldn't know _everyone_ in school, right?

That concern however was soon replaced with the looming threat of having to give his introduction, and before he was ready he was standing at the head of the class, sweating profusely.

"B-Buongiorno, I'm Shirou Giovanna," stuttering uncontrollably as he spoke, Shirou felt like a complete idiot, why was something so simple this difficult? "U-until recently, I was studying overseas in Italy, and uhhh, now I'm not."

Unable to stand any more, he bowed in a Japanese style that clashed heavily with his use of Italian, before rushing to his seat in the back of the room. Somewhat unfortunately he found himself sitting next to the boy from earlier, who was too busy holding in his laughter at Shirou's expense to say anything when he sat down.

Through some incredible force of luck he was able to make it to the lunch break without doing anything else to embarrass himself. While looking for a place to sit, someone wrapped their arm around his shoulders and pulled him along. Surpassingly, it was the boy from earlier.

"Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot this morning," the boy swept his hair back with one hand while picking up an apple from his lunch with the other. Shirou didn't know it was possible for someone in his age group to look this smug. "Let's be friends, Shioru Chobanna."

"I-It's Giovanna," Shirou opened his lunch, which had been packed by Giorno before he left. In a plastic container was an elaborate pasta dish, everything about it screamed Italian as if making a statement. "I uh, don't know your name."

"Didn't I tell you before?" when Shirou shook his head, the boy sighed, taking a bite of his apple. "Shinji, Shinji Matou."

"L-Look, Shinji, not to be rude but… is there any reason for us to be friends?" Shirou's bluntness was enough to make Shinji burst out laughing, but he didn't know what was so funny about what he had said.

"I like you, you're funny," he grinned, placing the apple back on the table before leaning over it towards Shirou. "We're different from the rest, no one else our age would ask the question 'why should we be friends?' it's brilliant."

"I don't really get it, what does that have to do with-"

"Shh, just listen to me for one second," Shinji leaned back in his chair, propping his arm up on one knee. He wasn't wrong in that the two of them seemed more mature than the rest of the class for their age, both of them seemingly quite independent. "Earlier you said family is important, and I agree, but you know what else is important? Friendship, _allies. _I'm telling you that if you stick with me, I'll watch your back, and you watch mine, you understand?"

Suddenly, everything clicked in Shirou's mind. What the Matou boy was saying made perfect sense _and_ it lined up with how he had lived his life up until now, if he thought of friends more as allies, then the concept made far more sense to him. Shirou looked at Shinji, he didn't seem like he'd be useful in a fight, but there was more than one way to be an ally, and he seemed popular with the other students.

"Maybe we do have something in common, Shinji," Shirou put down his fork, reaching over the table with an open hand. The blonde boy's handshake was quickly reciprocated by the Matou, who grinned.

The unlikely duo that formed that day would be one the rest of the school wouldn't soon forget. Shinji was quite good at spreading rumors, and anyone who crossed the two was subject to complete social destruction orchestrated by the Matou.

On the other hand, the socially dense Shirou Giovanna became something of a bodyguard; his abnormally honed fighting skills would have made him the terror of the school if it weren't for Shinji's influence. And while they originally joined forces to use each other as tools, it wasn't long before an actual friendship formed between them.

Shinji hadn't made a single comment about Shirou's home life after stopping by one day unexpectedly, and in fact he didn't seem bothered by it at all. Shirou had been worried their alliance would fall apart if he learned of the gang, but it seemed he already knew.

"When grandfather told me the new student was the son of a gangster, I was really worried you know?" Shinji was at the edge of the Giovanna estate dojo, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "But then I saw you act like a complete idiot in front of class, and all my worries went away."

"Thanks, I guess," Shirou wasn't quite sure how to take that; it seemed Shinji was a fan of underhanded compliments. "But I'm not the Boss's son, we're not related."

Shirou continued his training drill, practicing his sword technique despite the lack of an opponent. Shinji seemed interested in watching him so he had no complaints about him being here, but he wondered what he got out of it.

"Really? I'd never have known. I mean you look pretty similar to him, though I guess he's a bit young."

Their conversation switched to various other topics, but the gang was quickly discarded as one, Shinji not seeming that interested in it. Offhandedly, Shirou mentioned Shinji's sister Sakura, and the boy's expression darkened. Soon afterwards he said he had to get home and left, leaving Shirou alone in the dojo.

He had already seen their strained relationship before, but he wondered why they didn't get along. He wished there was something he could do to help them, maybe he should go over to their house one day and talk to her? Shinji didn't talk much about his home life, so maybe he wanted to keep it separate from their friendship.

It had been several months now, and Shirou had almost completely adjusted to his new life. Of course, he didn't slack off on his training, working harder than ever to improve his Stand. He had easily integrated into Shinji's circle of friends, mostly because they had become a nearly inseparable pair at this point. Occasionally, he would see Sakura watching them from a distance, but she never came over. It did seem as if Shinji was getting along with her better now, so he was happy about that.

Shirou, absorbed in his peaceful school life, was completely ignorant of the problem boiling underneath the current situation. He had no way of knowing that his existence in Shinji's life was having an effect on anything, or what it would lead to. For now, he was content to remain blissfully unaware of the trouble brewing in the background.

But there were those who took notice, and the powers in play would soon cross paths, for better or worse.

* * *

The instant school let out Shirou Giovanna was bombarded with invitations to play from the other students, but he casually brushed them off. Any other day and he would have agreed, but today he was on a mission. Today, he would talk to Sakura about getting along with Shinji, and he'd finally see if there was anything he could do.

This was prompted by an incident from lunch, where an angered Shinji had slapped the girl across the face. This was followed by a potentially friendship ending action on Shirou's part, that of punching his friend and ally without holding back.

The three of them had all ended up being berated by a teacher, but when she saw Shirou's last name on the detention sheet she had paled considerably and let them go. Shirou wasn't necessarily a fan of the special treatment he got for his connection to Giorno, but today it was helpful.

Though, in the time it took him to gather his things, the Matou siblings had disappeared from the school grounds. Shinji normally waited for Shirou before heading home, so the fact that he hadn't probably meant their relationship had been severely damaged. Oh well, if he could repair it at the same time as his relationship with Sakura then everything would be fine.

He was quite optimistic despite not knowing how he was going to fix this problem, but he'd figure it out when he got to it. Slinging his backpack over one shoulder he dashed out of the school, heading towards the Matou household. His physical fitness, honed to a degree well above what a middle school student should possess, allowed him to run a great distance in a short amount of time.

By the time he saw the Matou house ahead of him he had barely even broken a sweat, and he would reach there in less than ten minutes at this pace. However, he never made it to the Matou's, as the sight of a distinctive head of wavy bluish hair disappearing into an alley made him come to a stop.

Slowing to a walking speed, he entered the alleyway, trying his best to be stealthy. He figured it would be beneficial if he knew the mood of his targets before he approached them, and he could always play off his being there as a coincidence.

From where he was hiding Shirou couldn't see either Matou's face, but from their body language it was clear that there was tension. Shinji moved harshly, his entire body showing his anger, while the girl cowered away from him.

"Look here now, Sakura," Shinji backed the timid girl into a wall, slamming his hand next to her face to block off her escape. "Don't think that just because Grandfather is teaching you and not me that it makes you better than I am, or that you're a real Matou!"

The girl didn't respond, her eyes averting from Shinji's harsh glare. Normally, the girl would respond to Shinji without question, scared of making him more violent then he already was. But today she ignored him, a choice that only made things worse.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, answer me," Shinji placed his other hand on the collar of her school uniform, yanking the short girl towards him. "I guess I was right, you've misunderstood your position. You're just a tool, a disposable piece of trash for grandfather and I to use as we please, understand?"

Shirou was fuming; the rage building up within him was a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment. How could he treat her like this? He was just about ready to burst out of his hiding place and stop them, when he noticed something unusual. A shadow spread out under Sakura, but it seemed to move like a living creature.

Shirou was suddenly reminded of the rumors in town of people disappearing, which were followed by reports of strange shadowy creatures. Both the police and Giorno had ignored them, as there were no signs of them being true, but what if… a bad feeling was starting to rise in his body, and his breathing grew shallower.

"You don't deserve it…" meekly, Sakura responded to Shinji, her words too cryptic for Shinji to interpret. When she saw he didn't understand, her eyes locked onto his, twisting into anger. "I said, you don't deserve it, anything! You don't deserve to be the head of the family, you don't deserve the friends you have, or your happiness!"

Shinji backed off, his eyes widening. He had never seen the girl act mad before, and that terrified him. Because he knew what she was capable of, unlike him, she possessed talent in Magecraft.

"I have to suffer, while you live happily? How is that fair?!" a black aura surrounded her, a line of red marking beginning to spread across her body. She convulsed in pain, her skin moving as if hundreds of worms were writhing under the surface of it. falling to her knees, she coughed painfully, but what spilled from her mouth wasn't blood, it was black mud.

Shirou's eyes shot open wider then he thought was possible, an image of a blazing inferno surrounding him. Why was this sight reminding him of that day? He had no idea of the connection between this and the disaster, but somehow his instincts were telling him they were connected.

If it weren't for his trauma resurfacing at that moment, maybe things would have ended differently, maybe he could have upheld his ideal of protecting everyone as a hero. But he was frozen, unable to act as his best friend's sister lost control of herself completely. He extended his shaking arm, trying to stop it in any way possible, but he couldn't manage to say anything, his words catching in his throat.

A vaguely humanoid shadow formed in front of Sakura, extending from her own shadow. It was a construct of pure magic, essentially a familiar crafted out of her magical element. Unlike most magi, Sakura possessed a unique element that wasn't one of the traditional five; her element was known as "Hollow."

The Hollow soldier that formed from her anger and hatred lurched forward, Shinji backed away slowly, his body shaking in terror. But he was too slow; the familiar lunged forward, driving its arm through the boy's chest. He was thrown back, mashing into the wall behind him with a sickening crunch as his body was broken. He fell to the ground, unable to move.

And then Sakura laughed, his eyes slowing a mad glint. The black mud pouring from her body enveloped her like a shroud of darkness, transforming her. What was one once an innocent looking young girl was now twisted and blackened, a dark parody of her former self. Her eyes turned an unnatural red; her hair color became a pale white, and the crimson lines of corruption spread further across her body.

Shirou's mind went blank, he couldn't think logically anymore. It was happening again, he couldn't save anyone, why did he think he could? No, that was just his fears talking, he had to fight them, to push past them like Giorno had taught him. He gritted his teeth and ran out of hiding, sliding to a stop in front of the twisted version of Sakura.

She seemed surprised to see him for a moment, but it soon turned to anger again. She was consumed by her negative emotions; all of her reasoning had melted away. Had she been able to think straight, she would have remembered who he was, what he meant to her. Shirou was the first person to genuinely be nice to her, whether or not that was accurate didn't matter; it was how it felt to her.

But she didn't remember any of that, in this moment her blind hatred only saw the boy who was friends with her disgusting excuse for a brother, and that made him guilty of the same crime. The agony wreaking her body only increased, she was too young, so she was unable to process the amount of raw energy flowing into her. If it wasn't stopped, it would surely tear her apart from the inside.

"Sakura, calm down," Shirou held out his hands to try and stop her, but every movement he made only angered her further. "Let's just talk about this, nobody has to get hurt!"

The Hollow Familiar appeared in front of him, its fist smashing into the ground where he had just been standing. Shirou's combat reflexes were higher than she expected, but now that she knew his speed it wouldn't miss again.

"Shiirou, why don't you just go die along with that stupid brother of mine!"

The shadow construct moved faster than before, its arm cutting down like a sword towards Shirou. It was an attack that would surely kill him, assuming he was a normal human. But Shirou Giovanna was far from human.

A blue flame erupted from his hands, and as soon as the monster's arm neared him, a shining steel blade intercepted it. In Shirou's hands was a sword, an antique looking katana in similar design to his instructor Taka's blade. No, it wasn't just similar; it was the same, right down to the nicks and scratches along the blade from heavy use.

Shirou pushed the construct's arm back with his blade, cutting down in an arc. His blade hit the shadow's body, but it shattered on impact without harming it. Panting, Shirou brought his hands out in front of him, another flash of azure fire appearing in his palms. This time, a European style hand and a half sword, also know as a bastard sword, materialized.

Sakura's face twisted into confusion, he should be dead by now, how was he alive? At that moment she hated the boy who defied her will just as much as her brother, or her 'grandfather,' she even hated him as much as her real family, who sold her into a life of suffering with no remorse.

"Why can't you just disappear?!" Sakura raised her hand towards him, a surge of mana gathering in her palm. She unleashed a bolt of pure energy, one with no other purpose but destruction.

Shirou blocked the spell with his sword, the blade disintegrating instantly. Disregarding that, he charged forward. He felt that in that moment, if he could just reach her, if only for a second, he could save her. But the familiar blocked his path, looking even more imposing than previously, had it gotten bigger?

"Move out of my way!" He clenched his fist, throwing a punch towards the shadow. At that moment, a silver fist appeared from behind him, crashing into the shadow with incredible force. The steel gauntlet-like fist blasted a hole in the shadow's chest, and it began to fade.

But when Shirou got near Sakura, she backed away from him, her expression turning to fear. He couldn't understand what was going on, so he pressed forward, desperate to save her. He wanted nothing more than to save her, but she was no longer willing to be saved. A blast of mana from the girl sent him flying, and when he stood up she had vanished into the darkness of the alley, possibly with the aid of that shadow creature.

Limping over to Shinji, he knelt down by his side, placing a hand on his neck. He still had a pulse, but it was weak. Forming a mental map of the town in his mind, he pinpointed the nearest emergency center and picked up his friend's dying body. Normally, he would call Giorno to come help, but he had no time to waste.

Dammit, Sakura had gotten away; he had failed to save her. But that only hardened his resolve; he _would_ save Shinji, no matter what. With his friend in his arms, he ran faster than he ever thought possible.

Shirou nearly collapsed as he reached the door of the hospital, several staff members rushing over to him as soon as they saw Shinji. After a nurse had taken him away, Shirou slumped into a chair in the waiting room, and before he realized it he had fallen asleep.

He didn't know it yet, but this was the trigger of a much larger scale event, one that would threaten the city itself.


	11. Chapter 10: Reality

"I'm sorry to take up your valuable time, Instructor, but this matter is rather urgent." The woman addressing him sat behind a large oaken desk, her legs crossed. Her stern faced combined with her no nonsense outfit and pulled back hair combined into quite an imposing figure. "Please, sit down."

Not seeing much choice in the matter, the man took a seat across from her. Just what manner of hell had he stepped into, to be summoned by the vice director of the association. She was called one of the most powerful magi in the modern era, and she was intimidating enough when she wasn't staring right at you. But to be called to her office in such a hurry, he dreaded what was in store for him.

"I have to prepare for another class soon, so let's get down to business quickly." He reached into his coat and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, but at the sight of the woman's face, he quickly put them away. "Please excuse my rudeness, I wasn't thinking."

"It doesn't matter. Don't worry about your class either; I've already had the students informed of its cancellation." She leaned over her desk, propping her chin on her crossed hands. "I know you have a lot to deal with as of late, such as that investigation of yours."

"I'll have a more concrete lead on that soon, I'm sure." The man feigned confidence, but in truth he was completely stumped for what to do next. He tried his best to hide that fact, but it was likely the woman had seen through him. "But I feel you're not here to discuss that matter, are you? So Ms. Barthomeloi, what honor brings me before you today?"

Lorelei Barthomeloi, the vice chairman of the Magus Association and Wizard Marshal with magecraft that rivaled even true sorcery leaned back in her chair. Opening a drawer in her desk, she pulled out a folder and tossed it to him.

"Numerous mysterious disappearances along with unusual fluctuations of the land's ley lines, it's quite worrying considering the location." The woman sighed, rubbing her temple with her left hand. "And with the current troubles in the Association, there's very few I can spare to investigate it."

The man flipped through the file, a scowl crossing his face. Why did it have to be there of all places? Not just the Far East, but a city he detested more than anything. Closing the file, he placed it back on the desk with a stern expression.

"With all due respect, isn't this a matter for the local overseer? I can't say I look forward to crossing the Tohsakas."

"Normally, this would fall to the head of the Tohsaka family yes, but she is currently a twelve year old girl. Are you suggesting we send a girl barely into her training to investigate something on this scale, Lord El-Melloi?"

"Lord El-Melloi II, if you please," he replied with a harsh tone. Normally he would show more tact with the woman before him, but he utterly detested being called that without the 'II.' "I suppose you're right, but why select me of all people, surely there are those more qualified?"

"More qualified yes, but availability is an issue. Furthermore, you have some _experience_ in that area of Japan, do you not?"

Lord El-Melloi II resisted the urge to complain, realizing his fate was sealed since he arrived at the office. He stood up, taking the folder with him, and bowed silently. His wordless affirmation was enough for her, and she didn't protest his departure.

A foul mood filled the atmosphere around him as he walked through the halls of the Clock Tower, no students or even instructors dared to approach him. He already had quite a reputation for being irritated, having spent several years in a state of annoyance according to the students.

He couldn't believe his bad luck, was this some karmic retribution? Of all the places in Japan, it had to be Fuyuki didn't it, what a joke. It wasn't a place he ever wished to return to, not with the memories he had. But if he was being asked by Barthomeloi then he didn't have much of a choice, he'd rather not risk angering a woman who fought toe to toe with Ancestor class Dead Apostles.

As he continued down the hall a familiar sight caught his attention. Rounding the corner was a young girl with white hair and a hood pulled up over her face. Unfortunate as it was, his apprentice resembled someone he would rather forget from his past, so he asked her to hide her face. Thankfully, the quiet girl hadn't objected to his request.

"Gray, good timing, come with me." He beckoned the girl to follow, not slowing his pace at all. She quickly fell in line behind him without a word, matching his long stride. "We're headed to Japan, go prepare your things. I'm not sure how long the stay will be for, so be ready for an extended visit."

While she wished he was inviting her on a vacation, she could already tell this was about work, it was always about work. Why he insisted on bringing her along when he didn't even seem to like her was beyond her abilities to understand.

"Understood, I'll bring my luggage to your flat as soon as I can."

The two Magi separated, Lord El-Melloi II heading towards the airport to secure their passage on this unwanted journey. At the very least he might get some spare time when things were resolved to pick up the latest copy of Admirable Great Tactics, though he likely wouldn't have the time.

He had no idea what he was about to step into, and no way of predicting that the outcome of his current mission would be the catalyst of an unexpected event in the near future. Were you to ask him what was going to occur on this trip, he would never have told you that he would run into anyone from that time, the idea was impossible.

But the winds of fate were set to drag him back into a conflict he wanted nothing to do with.

* * *

Zouken Matou was not in a good mood. Just when things had started to get back on track, his plans had fallen apart at the seams. The amount of times his plans had gone awry in the last few months was staggering, why was he so unable to stay in control?

Things had been looking up, with his plans around Shinji starting to bear fruit. He had become friends with the young Giovanna and it wouldn't have been much longer before he could use that connection to his advantage. But then the fool of a grandson he had went and mucked it up, his actions rapidly accelerating Sakura's degradation.

Now he was left without an easy to manipulate pawn, and an incomplete holy grail running rampant in the city. The Association wouldn't take this lightly, for Sakura's actions were at high risk of revealing magic to the public at large.

Everything was crumbling and he had no plans to stop it, not without putting himself at risk. But it was becoming necessary; he would have to attempt the next part of his plans revolving around the Giovannas without Shinji. That useless brat was in the hospital on life support, it served him right.

Leaving the safety of his estate and his Bounded Fields, Zouken headed towards the main base of the gang Passione. He had avoided tangling with them as long as he could, but he was now out of options. The leader was threat even to the immortal Zouken, so he had wished to set this plan up without direct intervention. However, he wasn't about to let everything slip through his fingers at the final stage.

As he approached, a gang member posted as a guard caught sight of him, stiffening up as a result. Zouken raised his hands up, signaling peace. Eventually the guard, satisfied he wasn't a threat, led him inside.

"Hey, Boss," The gangster called out as he entered the estate, which looked more normal then one would expect of the headquarters of a powerful gang. "This old guy says he has business with you."

In the main room of the estate, Giorno Giovanna sat atop a large cushion, his legs crossed. Wearing an oversized leopard print coat loosely on his shoulders over his traditional flamboyant suit only added to his visual nature of 'leader.' It was undeniable that he was the one in charge; the atmosphere around him was completely different from the rest of the gang.

"Zouken Matou, I presume." Giorno didn't stand, his cold stare not wavering against the elder Magus. If he was aware of who he was before introductions had even started, then he must be aware of Zouken's nature as well. Therefore, in order to be this calm… he didn't even consider the immortal magus a threat.

"And you must be Giorno Giovanna, the boss of this… _eccentric_ group." Zouken didn't hesitate, he couldn't show any signs of weakness against this man if he wanted to succeed. "Or perhaps, I should call you _Archer?_"

The confused look on the gang member's face was short lived, as he quickly excused himself from the room when Giorno flashed him a look. Not wanting to get on the Boss's bad side, he left without question.

"So we know each other well, Magus," Giorno replied, his hand extending towards an empty chair. "Please, let's discuss what you've come about before it becomes too late to do anything."

"You sound like you already know what I've come about, this won't be long." Zouken remained standing, hoping his defiance would allow him some power in his negotiation. "The exact nature of this problem is too complicated to explain, but we're currently facing a crisis that affects not just myself, but the entire city."

"And why should I help you clean up your mess, Zouken?" Giorno rose to his feet, his adult stature significantly more impressive than his teenage form during the Holy Grail War. Well over six feet tall, with muscles that would make a professional bodybuilder jealous, it was clear who the more imposing figure in the room was. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you now, so that something like this never happens again?"

Giorno had heard everything from Shirou, and from the boy's story he had managed to put together a good idea of what was going on. This magus thought he was better then him, that he could manipulate him into doing anything he wanted, think again.

"With your power it would be quite simple, I'm sure." The elder Magus turned towards the door and began to leave. "I'm sure your _second Master_ would appreciate you ending my life, but if you do kill me… how will you find Sakura?"

A smile crept over Zouken's face, making the man look even more disgusting than normal. He turned his head to the side and looked back at Giorno, who remained motionless.

"I have no doubt in my mind that you can save the girl from this, but you have to reach her before she dies, yes?" Zouken had paid close attention to the Grail War even if he wasn't in it, so he knew everything about this Servant that he could. If he could raise the dead, he would have done so with his original master, so his healing had limits. "Sakura's body can't handle the amount of energy running through it right now, it's most likely breaking down as we speak. "Even if you search the city with your entire gang, can you find her in time?"

"And you can, huh?" Giorno crossed his arms, cocking his head to the side. "Fine, I'll help, but not for you."

"It doesn't matter to me whether you think you're doing this for yourself or my own sake, as long as it gets done." Zouken reached into his sleeve and pulled out an antique compass. "I've prepared this; it will point you towards the girl's… unique magical signature."

Giorno took it without hesitation, his eyes locking with the old man's. Giorno knew he was being played, that Zouken didn't care what happened in the outcome of this event. If he saved Sakura then Zouken keeps one of his chess pieces, but if he died in the process… well, then Zouken had removed a threat all the same.

But it didn't matter if Zouken was using him, he wouldn't allow chaos to run rampant in his city. More So, he wouldn't allow an innocent young girl to suffer any longer.

"If that's all, then leave." Giorno walked away from the Magus, heading for a back room of the estate. "I will save her, not for you, not for me, but for Kariya. I should have done this long ago, but now I'll repay my debt to him."

The Matou Patriarch left quietly, no longer able to influence the situation. He had set the pieces in motion, how it played out from now one was out of his hands. It wasn't ideal, but it was best he could do on such a short notice.

Unknown to either of them, a young blonde child who should have been in the dojo training had slipped into the kitchen for some water and accidentally eavesdropped. Shirou should have left Giorno to handle things, but he wasn't able to let it go. He wanted to be a hero, to save Sakura.

He had already failed once, but this time would be different.

* * *

For the girl known as Sakura Matou life was a living nightmare, every day brought her nothing but suffering. But the tortures she underwent in the name of the Matou's twisted Magecraft were nothing compared to the agony she was currently experiencing.

The magical worms that made up Zouken's vile Magic Crest writhed under her skin, slowly devouring her body from the inside out. They had meant to remain dormant for a few more years, and had they done so this wouldn't be happening. The worms would have stabilized and become more like a secondary set of Magic Circuits, but they woke up from hibernation early.

The amount of raw mana pouring into her body from the Grail System was enough to kill a normal magus as well, made worse by the corrupted nature of it. The evil that tainted the Greater Grail ate away at her sanity, driving her further into madness with each passing moment.

It was the perfect storm, her negative emotions fed the darkness, and the darkness eroded her mental state. Zouken had never considered the possibility of this happening, and now she was paying the price for his foolishness. As always, the actions of others bring her nothing but pain.

Why did she have to suffer like this? What cruel fate did she possess to be subjected to so many horrors? All while others benefitted from her anguish, like her monstrous grandfather, or that fake brother of hers.

Shirou was different from the others; he cared about her without having an agenda. But in her blind hatred of the world she couldn't see him, for he was just another faceless adversary. She wanted to see him so badly, but she couldn't find him anywhere. Wherever she went, there was nothing but worthless excuses for humanity. She was doing the world a favor by killing them, they didn't deserve to exist.

She hated humanity, an anger fueled by blackened Holy Grail's own hate. She didn't realize it wasn't her own emotion driving her anymore; they had become an inseparable feeling in her mind.

The girl's body convulsed and she fell to her knees, coughing violently. A mixture of blood, the Grail's cursed mud, and worms spilled from her throat onto the pavement below.

Her mind was turning blank, the pain made it hard to think. She had no clue where she was or how she got there. How long had she been walking? It no longer seemed to matter; all that mattered was her base instinct to survive. She needed energy to live, since the worms in her body would feed off her excess mana instead of her flesh, so she devoured the living.

The black shadow that moved with her subconscious will ate those in Fuyuki with strong souls, essentially providing her with limitless energy. She had become an irredeemable monster in only a few hours, her every action took her away from the normal life she wished to have. But this Grail couldn't grant that wish, instead locking onto a more base desire of the girl. A wish even it could perform with ease, totally destruction of humankind. Whether this was her wish or the Grail's no longer mattered, for either way it would carry it out.

The shadow crept up behind an unsuspecting civilian, and before they had a chance to even realize what had happened they were swallowed by it. Instantly transformed into magical energy, the power flowed back to Sakura, prolonging her miserable life a little longer.

She continued this throughout the night, her relentless attacks would undoubtedly draw the attention of some meddlesome factions such as her grandfather, but there was nothing he could do to stop her at this point. Zouken didn't have the power to defeat the shadow and she knew that.

Dragging herself through an alley she stopped and leaned against a wall, her ragged breath an obvious sign of her fatigue. The girl gritted her teeth and pushed forward, somehow still able to walk in her body's condition. A normal person would have died long ago, and it was ironically only through Zouken's 'training' that she had lasted this long.

The thought that Zouken was responsible for allowing her to live was disgusting, and she quickly discarded it to focus on her current mission. Once she'd gathered enough strength she would return to her 'home.' Zouken would pay for his actions, she would make sure of it.

And then, she thought, the world would burn alongside him. She rejected this world that would allow such a thing to happen to her, it didn't deserve to exist. Except Shirou, if no one else, she wished to spare him. She was of course unaware of the fact that she had attacked him just hours ago, to her that was nothing but one of her disgrace of a brother's pawns.

The crimson lines that ran across her body continued to increase, spreading over her even more. Her time was running out, but she wasn't able to think clearly enough to realize it herself. Had she realized her current actions only sped her towards her own death, things could have turned out differently, but she persisted on this path of self destruction, fueled by the darkness of the Grail.

"Don't worry grandfather; I'll be home soon…" She laughed, her psychotic laugh echoing through the empty alley.

Sakura was gone; the timid girl who feared the world would never act this way. Left in her place was a cruel mockery, nothing but a killing machine wearing his body like a suit. It was possible the original was still in her somewhere, but she had lost control.

The feeling of two powerful sources of energy nearing her caught her attention, had her grandfather come for her? No, this felt different from him. The shadow appeared next to her, but then something unexpected happened. Out of the shadow stepped a woman carrying a sword, someone she didn't recognize.

The black swordswoman, covered in armor that appeared as the same corruption on Sakura's body, stood perfectly still next to her. Sakura finally realized that this was one of the many souls she devoured, but one that had somehow survived. Strong enough to resist being broken down into energy, it had instead become an extension of the blackened Grail's will.

She didn't know who this woman was, how would she have? But she could feel her power, and it was far stronger than she could have imagined. A smile spread across the girl's face, and she looked towards the direction of the powers she felt.

"Kill them." They were words a young girl should never speak, a declaration of war. Yet she did so easily, not even considering the consequences.

The black swordswoman rushed out of the alley, perfectly obeying Sakura's commands. A mindless tool seemed to be all that remained of the former Counter Guardian, becoming even more emotionless then her initial summoning.

But this Pseudo-Servant was connected to Sakura, and its activation sent a shock through her magic circuits. The worms in her body woke up again, wracking her body with pain. The vision in her left eye dulled, and finally gave out completely.

Had she been aware of how she had begun to mirror the late Kariya Matou, her 'uncle,' she might have found it amusing. But while he chose that path himself, this was forced upon her.

She would defeat her enemies, and then she would be free.

* * *

As soon as Giorno had left the estate, Shirou's plan went into motion. It wasn't a complex plan, he waited until Giorno was about to round the corner at the end of the street and then climbed over the wall blocking the yard from the outside. He did this to avoid being stopped by any of the other gang members, as Giorno would likely have told them to keep him here.

Shirou dashed to the end of the street before carefully peeking around the corner. Giorno was far enough away that he felt safe following him, but he wasn't going to take any chances. Slipping into the alley, he crept along a parallel route, silently tracking the Gang-Star.

He knew better than to involve himself in this, he should have just stayed out of it. But he couldn't ignore someone who needed help. If he could do anything to save her, he would. The idea that he couldn't help never even crossed his mind, he was already determined to save her.

The sight of that girl being consumed by her hatred, of that darkness taking control… he _would_ rescue her. Who else would do it but Shirou Giovanna? The Boss might, but he was just as likely to kill her for being a threat. Shirou's fear that Giorno might do something like that was his driving force; it was what let him keep walking forward.

Shirou lost sight of Giorno for a split second, and the boy panicked. Rushing out of the alley, his eyes darted all around but he couldn't see the older man. Damn it, how was he supposed to find Sakura now?

"We need to work on your tailing skills," a voice from behind him sent a chill down his spine, the young boy freezing on the spot. "It would have been more surprising if I hadn't noticed you, Shirou."

He turned around, the stern face of Giorno Giovanna staring down at him. He had completely failed, the worst possible outcome had happened. Giorno finding him ruined any chance he had to actually reach his goals, there was no way he would let him into such a dangerous mission. But he wouldn't give up, even if it was impossible a Gang-Star would make it possible!

"Take me with you, I'll fight too." Shirou clenched his fists, his eyes burning passionately with determination. "This is my fight too, Shinji is my friend, and Sakura…"

What was Sakura to him? He had only talked to her maybe two or three times, so he couldn't say they were really that close. Was she just his friend's sister? No, there was something more. Maybe if he was a bit older he could have recognized the affection he was starting to feel towards her, but he never got the chance.

"Sakura… is my responsibility! I failed to stop her before, even though I was there!"

"So you want to make up for your past failings? That resolve isn't strong enough; it's too weak to give you true strength." Giorno turned away from him and started down the road, hands in his pockets. "Doing battle with such a vague desire won't do anyone any good."

Shirou clenched his fists, his body starting to shake. He was right; it was his own lack of determination that kept him from being able to do anything before. She had been right in front of him, but he had refused to go all out against her and let her slip away. Now all the chaos she was causing was on him, he could have stopped her back then easily.

But he didn't want to kill her. Of course not, it would be a serious problem if a twelve year old was capable of coldly dispatching his enemies without remorse. But in a battle you have to go in with the resolve to kill your opponent, even if your goal contradicts it. If you can't kill them when there are no options left, then you might as well not have tried.

"I can do it!" Shirou shouted, his voice echoing across the empty town. His expression hardened, becoming more like that of Giorno's own stony gaze. "I want to save Sakura, but I can't ignore what she's done either."

Giorno stopped, turning back towards the boy. His expression that never changed appeared even more solemn under the dim evening light. Walking back towards Shirou, he stopped a few feet from the boy.

"If your resolve isn't strong enough, this might break you. Are you sure?"

Shirou nodded, his fists tightening even more. A drop of blood ran down his fingers, splashing against the cold ground. He understood the risks, knew that what he was doing was crazy, but he still wanted to do it.

To become a shining hero like the man who saved him from the inferno, the man standing in front of him right now. That unyielding strength, the resolve to stand at the gates of hell like it was nothing. Shirou would chase that dream to the ends of the earth if he had to, so he couldn't back down now.

"Let me fight with you, I'll stop Sakura," he paused. Taking a depth breath, he looked up at Giorno, his eyes alone telling the Gang-Star what he needed to know. "I won't back down after coming this far, I'll _finish it._"

"Let's go then."

Giorno resumed his mission, and Shirou soon followed. It was the first time that Shirou had ever come along with the Boss on a job, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little excited over it. He had followed Giorno for years, but not once had he actually been allowed on a mission.

He had always been too weak, so did this mean Giorno accepted his strength? That was the only reason he could think of, and it made sense. After struggling all these years, Shirou had finally gained a strength that was enough to stand as Giorno's ally. He had never used the full power of his Stand in a fight, but he was ready to do so.

"Shirou, if I handle that black shadow she can control, will you be able to take her out?" Giorno voice was cold, not a shred of emotion made it into his words. "Even I would have trouble fighting two enemies at once."

"Leave it to me, Boss." Shirou ran up to Giorno and began to walk at his side instead of trailing behind him. "With the two of us here, there's no way we'll lose!"

"..!" Giorno pushed Shirou aside without warning, a silver flash crashing into the ground where he had been.

The boy tumbled to the ground, and when he regained his bearings he looked up to see an unexpected sight. A woman in black armor, carrying a sword he recognized easily. No way, what was she doing here? Giorno defeated her months ago, and she hadn't bothered them since. But then Shirou noticed the darkness that covered her, she had become the same as Sakura.

A pure white that had been tainted black, like a twisted mirror image. The evil that consumed her permeated the air, making it hard to even breathe. Shirou could barely stand against the overwhelming presence before him, his body shaking even more than before.

"So that's where you were, Saber." Giorno looked at the blackened swordswoman, his expression subtly darkening. He grasped the situation instantly, recognizing the effects of the tainted Grail. He placed himself between her and Shirou, and pulled an item out of his pocket. "It looks like I have some unfinished business here. Shirou, Can I leave the rest to you?"

"Eh?" Shirou couldn't quite comprehend what he had just said, the weight of Giorno's words washed over him like a wave of confusion. Finally, he deciphered his Boss's meaning, his eyes widening in surprise.

Before he had a chance to respond Giorno tossed an object to him, it was the compass he had seen Zouken give him before. Giorno's words hadn't really been a question, but rather an order. It was a declaration of his faith in the boy, giving him the task of defeating the entire enemy they originally set out to defeat together.

Giorno was placing Shirou's skills on the same level as his own, the realization of that froze him on the spot. How could he possibly take action after that, there was no way he was worthy of that kind of trust.

The blackened swordswoman rushed at them, aiming to take both of them down with one brutal strike. Giorno's arm flew up with insane speed, catching her blade on his forearm. The blade dug into his flesh, cutting to the bone even with the protection of his Stand. Giorno was surprised, her power had returned to levels close to their first battle.

"Go, I'll hold her here; this is your job now."

His body shivered in fear, his doubts told him he couldn't do anything. But Giorno believed in him, and that was somehow enough. The Young Giovanna rushed off into the night, the compass pointing him towards a nearby cemetery. If the Boss was putting his faith in him, he wouldn't let him down.

The sounds of intense combat filled the air, and he knew right away it wasn't a battle he could ever interfere with. Just standing near them was enough to know his current strength was nothing compared to those two, who surpassed the limits of humanity long ago.

Lucky for him, _his_ opponent was human. The black shadow was worrying, but the one she summoned against him could be hurt by his Stand, so he should be fine. He wouldn't let this end like last time. No one else was going to get hurt because of him, because of his weakness.

He would protect everyone, and he would become a hero.

* * *

"Muda!" Giorno Giovanna punched faster than the speed of sound, the force of his fist pushing him away from his enemy. He was locked in a fight more intense then he had anticipated.

Every move from either of them was a check; a single mistake would be their undoing. Giorno fought with a ferocity he didn't normally exude, his golden wrapped arms moving so fast they turned into a blur.

The corrupted Counter Guardian before him moved like a savage beast, any shred of their original fighting style was gone. The Servant Saber fought with knightly honor, a peerless swordsman. The Counter Guardian fought with machinelike precision, the pinnacle of technical skill. Both of those styles were thrown away for an animalistic rage, a form of swordsmanship that existed only to do as much damage as possible.

But with her immense strength the lack of style was easily compensated for. More of a Berserker then a Saber, Arturia spoke no words while she fought. But unlike the robotic silence of her Counter Guardian form, she simply couldn't form words. Everything that came out of her mouth was little more than a primal growl at this point.

Giorno lashed out, each of his punches aimed to cripple her combat capabilities. But each strike was deflected before it could reach her. She lunged, cutting a horizontal slash towards him. Giorno jumped over the slice, gracefully landing on her outstretched blade.

Giorno leapt into a roundhouse kick aimed for her head, but the swordswoman avoided it with a burst of mana. He landed in a crouch on the ground, an explosion of golden light erupting from his hand.

Branches, bamboo stalks, and other plant life shot up from the ground, surrounding them. The plants grew rapidly towards Arturia, but the maddened woman didn't retreat. With a roar she crashed through the onslaught of trees, her sword easily cleaving them in two. The feedback damage normally caused by his stand was all but negated against her high levels of magical resistance, causing only minor pain to the former servant.

Arturia ran up towards him, closing the distance instantaneously. Giorno moved to dodge, but her speed was higher than he anticipated. In a very un-Saber like fashion, she struck him with a kick, sending him flying.

She jumped, the force of her movement shattering the ground. In mid air he had no way to evade her, so he had no choice but to face her head on. Her sword came down for his head, and he met the blow with his own.

Gold and silver clashed in the sky, blinding him. The two fighters tumbled to the ground, neither wasting any time in getting back up. They charged back in, the intensity of the battle increasing to even greater levels.

The display of power from both combatants was more than just heroic, it was legendary. Mere heroic spirits would have been blown away by the two immense powerhouses who currently did battle. Each attack left a trail of collateral damage in its wake, and soon the peaceful city of Fuyuki once again looked like an active warzone.

Giorno was being pushed back however, the ferocity and strength of his enemy was far greater then he expected. But this still wasn't the battle he wished for, this still wasn't his Saber. A wild dog, a berserker, that's all she was now. The evil of the Holy Grail seemed to aim its misfortune towards him, taking away his hope little by little.

Giorno's body was covered in numerous small cuts, and his clothing was torn to shreds. He could heal the wounds easily, but he wasn't about to waste his energy on such minor damage. On the other hand, he hadn't landed a single blow against Saber… no, this wasn't Saber.

Maybe that's why he was struggling against her? He had been fighting like she was Saber, but she's nothing but a twisted shadow. Giorno kicked off the ground, a tree growing beneath his feet. Launched forward by his tree, Giorno pull back his fist, a trail of golden energy following his movements.

Arturia took a single step back, narrowly avoiding his punch. Her blackened Excalibur cut through the air in a flash, moving faster than he could avoid. A gout of crimson spilled from his chest as the blade dug into his flesh, sending him crashing into a parked car.

He had no time to recover before she was back on top of him, a burst of mana accelerating her sword towards his head. Giorno tumbled back, dodging her strike and countering with a bicycle kick. His heel connected with Arturia's chin, and the momentum carried him through into a backflip.

Landing lightly on his feet, Giorno rushed the momentarily stunned swordswoman. Power flowed through his body, his Stand's energy radiating a blinding light. If this corruption was caused by the Grail as he suspected, then he should be able to 'cancel' it.

His Requiem defied the laws of this world, the laws of any world. It was a power that had almost no limit, having already showed that several times in this world. It removed the corruption of the grail from him, turning him closer to his original human form. And it had broken Arturia's link to the Counter Force, if only partially.

"Gold Experience Requiem!" calling his Stand's name wasn't necessary to activate its power, but he felt compelled to do so anyways. The reason was lost even to him, it was simply a habit he had picked up since his summoning.

His fist slammed into her armored breastplate with the force of a speeding car, shattering her steel plate like it was soft clay. She was thrown back, crashing into a nearby wall with a deafening thud. Giorno hopped off the wrecked car he stood atop and walked slowly towards her, flexing his hand.

Where his blow had connected golden energy washed away the blackened, twisted version of Arturia, revealing the original untainted white armor she had before. A strange emotion came over him when he saw it, something akin to nostalgia.

H-Huh… this isn't my apartment?" confused, Arturia's eyes darted around her. Spotting Giorno approaching her caused her to tense up, her face becoming pale. "I, I… uuuggh, haa, haaaghh!"

Arturia's hands clutched at her face, her eyes widening in horror and agony. The darkness of the Grail crept along her body once more, enveloping her fully. The fear in her face was replaced with rage, and she was once again the Grail's pawn. A single tear rolled down her face before her expression was consumed.

"Uraaahhhh!" She thrust her sword at the approaching Gang-Star, who diverted his course to the side. Spinning on her heel, she threw her blade up into a powerful overhead slash.

Giorno couldn't dodge it; he was at the limits of his stamina. If he continued to push himself this much he wouldn't last through the battle. Making a tough decision, he threw up his left arm into the blade's path.

Arturia's sword cut through his arm like it was warm butter, easily cleaving the limb off. To an ordinary person losing an arm would send you into shock, but Giorno had been highly resistant to pain even when he was fully human.

Abandoning his lost appendage, he launched a barrage of quick open handed jabs with his right. Putting Arturia back on the defensive, he drove her into a corner against the wall.

Grasping at the heart shaped opening of his jacket, Giorno pulled, tearing the ruined piece of clothing off in a smooth motion. Arturia lunged at him, but he threw his jacket towards her. Not able to think clearly in her current state, she didn't consider the tattered cloth to be a threat. So when Giorno's Stand activated and transformed it into the form of an octopus, she had no time to evade.

Blinded by the octopus on her face, Arturia couldn't see his next move, which he was counting on. Utilizing an ancient technique passed down in his bloodline for generations, Giorno Giovanna changed the flow of the battle. That is to say, he ran away.

He was lightheaded from blood loss, only the pain from his wounds kept him awake at this point. He needed a new plan, or he wouldn't survive. It was just like that time at the end of the war, he had to put everything he had to the test to handle it.

The image of the lily white girl with the golden sword, tears in her eyes, flashed across his mind. Her purity eroded by the taint that tried to take him during the fourth war, replaced by a hideous monster. He couldn't understand why he was thinking about this, it had no bearing on his current battle.

But he couldn't shake those images from his mind, no matter what he did. Giorno felt that bizarre emotion rising in his body again, and he couldn't figure out what it was. Somehow, it felt closer to what he had expected from his battle with Arturia those few months ago. While he hadn't found what he was looking for in combat with her, he had been close. And now, he was nearing the answer.

He would find the answer to the question that had followed him since the end of the Holy Grail War, the reason why he wasn't able to let her go. He had only fought with her a few times; they had barely talked outside of their impromptu debate, be he couldn't get her out of his mind.

He wanted to finish their duel, to prove he was the strongest and that his ideals were correct. At least, that was what he had thought at the time. But if it was just that, then he had proven it three times over now, he _was_ stronger. No, there had to be a deeper reason for his obsession.

Giorno found himself in the downtown park, the ethereal glow of the ever blossoming cherry tree under the moonlight seemed to guide him in. he limped along, his legs barely able to stand any longer. But he had to finish this fight, even if he died in the process.

He felt her presence reappear behind him, it was only a matter of time before she caught up with him after all. Turning to face her, he felt his heart beat wildly in his chest.

His iron determination wouldn't waver here, he would end this. The two of them stood still, an eerie silence overtaking the park. And then they disappeared. The two combatants moved with a swiftness the eye couldn't follow, both closing the distance between them in the span of a single moment.

Giorno was running out of time, if the fight dragged on too much longer he risked being unable to repair his wounds. If it came to that he might not survive, but he wasn't about to back down. He would defeat her, and find the answers he was looking for.

"Muda!" His fist smashed into her face, sending her sliding across the ground. The woman remained standing, but only barely. Once again the power of his Requiem flowed into her, pushing back the darkness for a few seconds.

""W-What's happened to me, why can't I control my body?" His reason temporarily returned, Arturia desperately sought answers from Giorno, who had none to give.

"Don't let this control you, Saber," he spoke softly, approaching her with a calm face. "You're stronger than this, you have to fight it."

Giorno wasn't sure why he said this; perhaps he hoped his words were true. Deep inside of him, maybe he wanted her to be as strong as her remembered, and he couldn't imagine _that_ Saber being overtaken by this pathetic darkness.

"I… I can't!" She fell to her knees, clutching her head. "I-It's already returning, it hurts!"

She lunged at him, swinging her sword in an uppercut. It was an awkward one handed attack, one which Giorno sidestepped easily. She hadn't fully lost control yet, the darkness was struggling against her will, but it was obvious it was winning.

Tears welled up in her eyes, behind which he could see an expression of sorrow and regret. It was so very unlike Saber to show her emotions so freely, a clear sign of how far she had fallen.

"Kill… Me."

Arturia's words cut Giorno like a sword piercing his heart; it was something he never wanted to hear from her. The steadfast warrior who never relented in her ideals was gone, leaving behind nothing but a scared girl in over her head. He decided then that he wouldn't allow her to suffer this disgrace any longer than necessary; he couldn't stand to watch this tragedy play out any longer.

"Very well, I accept your request."

He pulled back his arm, pouring as much power as he could into it. His arm sparked and shook under the level of energy within his fist, this blow would finish it. A single strike to blow her away, he would remove this disgusting sight from his vision forevermore. His fist shot towards her, and the girl closed her eyes in anticipation.

But the strike never landed, his fist stopping an inch from her face. Giorno's resolved wavered for the first time in recent memory, and he hesitated. He saw her crying face in his memory, followed by her proud kingly expression as the azure Saber, and he couldn't do it.

"W-Why?" She looked up at him, perplexed by his action, or perhaps his lack of action. All she saw was his ever stoic face; the same as ever save for a minute amount of sadness showing through.

Giorno couldn't answer her, both for lack of understanding himself, and also for the fact that he missed his chance. The shadow took control again, and in his confusion over his own actions he was unable to react in time.

Excalibur dug into his body, and the swordswoman ran him through. Her charge forced him back, coming to a stop only when her sword dug into the body of the cherry tree behind him. Pink flower petals fell like snow around them, fluttering to the ground endlessly.

Blood spilled from his mouth with a cough, and he realized he was at the end, he was dying. The world around him lost color, and his body began to lose all feeling. He had died once before, it wasn't that terrible really. But he had died with regrets back then, regrets he had yet to fulfill. A new determination rising within him, he forced opened his weary eyes.

Wrapping his remaining arm around the girl before him, he put the last of his physical strength into pulling her towards him.

He didn't care what happened to him anymore; he just wanted to finish this one task before him. He had made the decision to save her from this nightmare, and even if it cost him his last breath, he would succeed.

"I won't let you… get away." His voice was hoarse, barely able to be heard even in the silence of the park. "Not this time."

A golden light enveloped both of them, filling the park with a light that rivaled the morning sun. The rampaging swordswoman struggled against his grip, but his strength somehow held out. His requiem blasted the darkness away, not even a single speck remained against his almighty power.

And then, the light vanished as if it was never there. The girl stopped struggling against his embrace, no longer a pawn of the corrupted Grail. She looked in shock and confusion at him, and in an extremely uncharacteristic way, he gave off a subtle smile.

"Why, when I asked you to kill me you could have done so with little effort, so why?!" Her words fell on deaf ears as the tight hold around her fell away. Giorno collapsed to the ground, leaving nothing but the lily white girl standing amongst a storm of cherry blossoms.

Arturia dropped to her knees next to the fallen body of Giorno. She was unable to understand his actions, which seemed out of character with their previous encounters. He had never once shown any emotion or compassion towards her, so why now?

"Why would you, why did you…" Tears streamed down her face, her emotions long having become unhinged. "Why would you sacrifice yourself for someone like me? You absolute fool, I'm not worth it!"

"Don't go mourning me just yet, Saber." The body in front of her stirred, and Giorno Giovanna rose to his feet. Arturia nearly feel backwards at the shock, there was no way he could still be alive after all that!

"W-What, how? Not even I could have survived that much damage; you shouldn't be able to even move with those wounds!"

Giorno extended his hand, catching the falling cherry blossoms in his outstretched palm. A soft golden glow appeared from within them, and then they melted into his skin.

"This tree was granted life by my power at the end of the Holy Grail War," he spoke to her as if the previous battle had never happened, his voice returned to its calm yet strong tone. "I hadn't expected it, but it seems some of my Stand's energy remained in the tree all these years. Thanks to that, I was able to survive."

A soft wind blew through the park; Giorno's unraveled ponytail flowed to the side. Despite having lost his shirt in the battle, he didn't seem to be affected by the cold night air. He faced towards the tree, not looking in Arturia's direction. Slowly, she stood up behind him.

At one point they were close in height, but even with her body's growth since their first fateful battle she wasn't able to keep up with his. Now even more than ever he appeared like a Greek statue, his size finally matching his attitude.

He began to walk away from her, heading in the direction Shirou had gone towards. But after only a few steps, he stumbled and fell to one knee. Damn it, even though he hated to admit it, he was at his limit.

"Shirou, looks like I can't help you this time." closing his eyes, he fell backwards to the ground. His head landed on something soft and warm, completely unlike the cold earth he should have hit.

"You really are an idiot, just give it a rest for a while, you aberration." Looking down at him was the girl he had thrice been locked in combat with, the former Counter Guardian who should hate him with all of her being. But here she was, holding his fatigued body in her arms.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to rest just a little." In the gentle embrace of the woman who should be his enemy, Giorno Giovanna drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The stone steps he climbed seemed to stretch on endlessly as he slowly ascended the staircase. To both sides of him were numerous gravestones, and the air was thick with a malicious aura. To Shirou Giovanna it seemed at though he was no longer in Fuyuki, he had walked into a different world. Yes, he had stepped into hell without realizing it, but it was too late for him to turn back.

Each step forward eroded his resolve, the dark miasma only worsening as he went deeper into the graveyard. The only sound he could hear was that of his heart beating loudly in his ears, which blocked out the rest of the world. He would be lying if he said he wasn't scared, terrified even, of what he was getting into. But he pushed past his trauma, seeing only one way to conquer it. He would face his nightmares head on, and prove that there was nothing left to be afraid of.

And then he would finally be able to stand next to Giorno as an equal, a true partner to the Gang-Star. This mission had been entrusted to him, and he wouldn't fail. Not just for Giorno, but he didn't want to fail either. He would save her, save everyone, and become a hero.

The compass in his hand, magically attuned to Sakura, started to spin wildly as he neared the top of the stairs. Tightening his free hand into a fist, he took the final step and reached the top of the graveyard. In the distance a small figure waited, kneeling on the ground in front of a dead tree that had started to rot away.

Her body was coated in shadows and crimson, the evil that corrupted her had nearly taken full control. Her hair had turned white, but whether that was part of the Grail's corruption or an effect of crest worms running wild in her body would be impossible to say. At the sound of Shirou's arrival she turned her head towards him, her left eye having completely lost its color.

Shirou gritted his teeth in disgust, how could anyone let this happen to such a kind girl? The tragedy he stood before wasn't on the same scale as the destruction from four years ago, but to him it might as well have been the same. Between one thousand people and a single child, what was the difference if you couldn't save them?

Sakura stood up and turned to fully face him, her body convulsing in pain as she did so. In front of her was the only person she cared for, but she couldn't recognize him under the influence of the Grail. It twisted her perception, making everything seem like the enemy to her. Shirou was nothing more than a pawn of her grandfather and brother in her eyes now, come to drag her back to her torment.

"Stay away, stay away, _stay away!"_ Her functioning eye went bloodshot with rage, a wave of mana building up inside of her. Throwing her hand out in front of her, a wave of red energy shot towards Shirou.

The boy jumped to the side, losing his balance in the process and tumbling to the ground. With a small groan he pushed himself back to his feet in a crouched position. The mana was less of a spell and more of an innate wave of destruction, crashing into the graves behind him and blowing them to pieces.

"Sakura, wait!" Shirou held up his hands, trying to signal her to stop. "I'm your friend, I can help you, you just have to calm dow-"

He was cut short by another bolt of energy, Sakura showing no response to his plea. He barely avoided the blast, the intense heat of the spell burning the outer layer of his jacket as it passed him by. Sakura had already prepared her next spell, her blind anger showing no sign of stopping.

But Shirou didn't want to fight her if he didn't have to, he wanted to save her. If he could just get her to snap out of her confusion, maybe he could reason with her. His thoughts were focused on stopping her without doing any actual harm, but he had no idea how he was going to do that. In the first place his Stand possessed no abilities that didn't pertain to combat, in stark contrast to Giorno's mostly defensive power set.

A third spell sailed through the air towards him, not giving him enough time to dodge. Instead, he stepped forward, a flash of blue fire appearing in his hand. From the flames he drew a sword, a roman gladius to be precise. He swung the sword in an upward arc, clashing with the spell.

Both Sakura's magic and Shirou's blade exploded, the force throwing the blonde stand user back. Shirou crashed against a tall grave, a short wave of pain shooting through his body.

Unfortunately, his actions only did more to confirm he was an enemy to the blinded Sakura. When he drew his sword, she had recoiled in fear. The shadow beneath her stirred, three of her humanoid 'hollow' familiars appearing around her. The constructs moved towards the fallen boy, but he recovered before they reached him.

With two azure bursts he drew two short daggers, one in each hand. His movements changing from before, he shifted into a graceful style. Leaping over the first of the shadows his blades dug into it with two quick flashes of silver. Landing behind the construct, it disappeared shortly after.

The second swung its fist down at him, but Shirou's honed reflexes allowed him to block it by crossing his daggers to intercept the blow. The blades shattered against the impact, and his arms nearly broke under the force of the attack.

A European longsword appeared in his hand, longer than he was tall. But still he managed to lift the heavy blade, bringing it down against the shadow beast. The blade sliced clean through the construct before snapping in half, the boy discarding the broken blade immediately.

He had no use for a ruined blade, not when he had a limitless arsenal. His stand power allowed him to draw endless swords from nothing, though they were rather poorly made and broke easily. And it's not to say they were truly limitless, for each sword he created massively drained his stamina, and he would eventually run out.

Currently, the maximum amount of swords he could bring out in one day was around ten. And that didn't take into account combat as well, which likewise lowered his effectiveness. He had already created four blades, it didn't matter the size or shape, for they all drained him around the same amount.

Of course, creating swords was only part of his Stand. It would likely be more effective to fight with his full Stand brought forth, but he had never used it in combat. Through if he kept going like this he would run out of energy before he even had a chance to do anything.

"Sakura, don't you recognize me, aren't I your friend?" His voice was desperate now, more than before. He wanted so badly to reach her, to break through to the innocent girl inside of the monster before him, but she wouldn't listen.

If he couldn't stop her without violence, then he would just have to fight her until Giorno arrived. He trusted the boss completely, he would defeat that swordswoman again and he would come save Sakura. He could do it, he could do anything. Even if Shirou had to get rough with Sakura, as long as Giorno made it to them by the end, they would be fine.

Shirou began to draw out his inner power, a process not completely dissimilar to a magus gathering their mana, and his mind started to shape it. Giorno had told him that giving his power a name would help him focus it into a full Stand, and that the appropriate name would become apparent to him in time.

Some Stands were named after Tarot cards, some after gods, and then there were those that didn't really describe the Stand at all, such as Giorno's. However, if Shirou had to classify the name he chose for his Stand, it would be one that fit his power perfectly. It was three simple words that told you everything you needed to know about it, which suited the young boy just fine.

"Unlimited…" He took a deep breath, his heart pounding even harder in his chest. His eyes burned with determination, and without hesitation he called out his latent power. "Blade Works!"

Behind him a sphere of intense blue fire erupted out of nothing, filling the graveyard with an unnatural glow. From the fire shot out dozens of blades that orbited the fire and began to transform. The blades twisted into the shape of arms and legs, each weapon slowly changing into a humanoid form.

Hundreds of blades jutted out of the back of the Stand's head and spine, almost appearing as wildly spiked hair. The Stand's mechanical face was obscured behind a mask that looked like a shooting star, and only its left eye remained uncovered. On its shoulders sat two small buckler styled shields, and its chest was formed from a European heater shield with a jagged split down the middle.

Its left arm ended in a hand that resembled talons more than a human hand. Its four fingers were made from curved daggers, in contrast to the Stand's right hand. The right hand appeared as a steel plated gauntlet, one that wouldn't look out of place on a noble knight's suit of armor.

The stand moved with the sound of metal grinding against metal, its Damascus steel patterned body slowly moving to stand in front of Shirou. Sweat poured down the boy's face, the drain of summoning the stand was extreme, but that was what his training was for.

The Stand reached inside of its body, pulling two blades from the fire that still burned in its torso. It dashed forward, slicing through the remaining shadow construct with ease. It seemed that for whatever reason, the swords created from the Stand itself were considerably more durable than the others.

Walking up to stand next to his Unlimited Blade Works, Shirou took one of the swords from its hand. He wasn't about to stand back and let it do all the work for him, even if it was only an extension of his will.

The two sword wielding figures rushed towards Sakura, who took a step back, her body shaking with terror.

"I won't let you hurt me anymore, grandfather!" still blinded by the curse of rage being forced on her, she covered her face with her hands as a burst of movement from the shadow behind her flowed across the graveyard.

Everything it touched burned and died, withering away under the most power of curses known to the world. Shirou barely avoided being consumed himself, having only escaped thanks to his Stand's reflexes. While being held under one arm, he was pulled up into the sky before being dropped on a large gravestone that stood above the sea of blackness.

From the darkness sprang up more of her Hollow soldiers, which quickly surrounded him. With nowhere to run he had no choice but to rely on his Stand. The Silver construct easily cut down four of the shadows, but their numbered appeared to be endless.

Shirou leapt off his perch with the help of his Stand, almost flying towards another safe spot. His breathing was getting ragged, maintaining his Stand this long wasn't something he was used to doing. He was running out of time, and by the look of Sakura, she was as well.

The shadows suddenly subsided, retreating back into Sakura. The girl fell to her hands and knees, violently coughing up a bloody mass of worms. The crest worms in her body writhed under her skin, devouring her flesh from the inside out.

Shirou took this chance and ran to her, easily closing the gap now that the combat had subsided. He grabbed the girl by the shoulders and lifted her up to face him.

"Sakura, Sakura!" he shook the girl, but her lifeless eyes showed no response. She was alive, but she had given up hope. "Don't surrender now, Sakura! What about your family and friends, don't you want to see them again?"

"Family..?" the girl's weak voice finally spoke up, her gaze meeting Shirou's. "I have… no family."

The Tohsaka's who abandoned her, the Matous who abused her, neither one of them could be considered her family. And friends, what friends did she have? Even in school everyone was only nice to her because of her brother, except him. She wanted to see him so badly, but he wasn't here.

"Shirou…" she spoke the name of the boy right in front of her, giving him false hope. He thought in that moment he had gotten through to her, that she could see him again.

"Yes, Sakura, I'm right here." He smiled, trying to look as happy as possible. It was all a façade, but it was the best he could do. "You don't have to suffer anymore, I've come to save you."

"You... you aren't Shirou, you just want to bring me back to grandfather!" She pushed him away, the darkness around her surged again in response to her emotions. And she was swallowed, the darkness fully enveloping her body. "You want to keep me away from Shirou, just like Shinji!"

The amount of mana built up inside of her was enough to wipe Fuyuki off the map, and in her rage she was about to unleash it. It didn't matter anymore; logic and reason were gone from her mind. She just wanted to destroy everything in her sight, no matter what it was.

Even Shirou with his limited magecraft training could feel the threat of her spell, the power ready to burst out from her was more than even the black swordswoman's. Shirou saw his friends at school, he Shinji lying unconscious at the hospital. He saw the faces of his brothers and sisters in the gang, the ones who trained him and made him who he was today.

And he saw the Boss, the one he most admired in the world. A golden hero who could have easily stopped this from escalating as it had, but he wasn't as strong as him. He couldn't save everyone like Giorno could, but… he couldn't let her annihilate the city either!

Before he knew it a sword was in his right hand, he didn't remember summoning it. His Stand had disappeared, but he didn't need it anymore. He rushed at the girl, who raised her arm at him in preparation to attack. But it was too late; Shirou moved with a speed he didn't know was possible, his sword cutting cleanly through her arm.

Not even the bloodcurdling scream she let out when he severed her arm slowed him down; he was like a berserker who had no control over his actions at this point. He didn't want to hurt her, or anyone else, but in the heat of moment he knew he had no choice.

He thrust his bloodied sword out, piercing the young girl's chest. The blade effortlessly stabbed through her body, gracefully pinning her against the rotting tree she had stood before the entire time.

"S-Shirou…" Her voice, even weaker than before, spoke out. She wasn't looking at him, the light had already gone from her eyes, and she couldn't see him. "It's so cold… where are you?"

Shirou wrapped his arms around the girl, his white jacket was stained red but still he held on. He had snapped out of his own berserker state, the full weight of what he had done appearing before him. This isn't what he wanted, he wanted to save everyone!

"I-I'm so sorry, Sakura." He embraced the dying girl, pulling her tight against his body. "If I was just a little stronger…"

Her body went limp in his arms, and a painful feeling shot through his chest. It was just like the fire, he couldn't do anything with his power, he was just a useless child. Why would Giorno trust him with this?

Shirou fell to his knees, staring up at Sakura's body that remained hanging from the tree. The horrible reality before him was straight out of a nightmare, but no matter how hard he wished to, he couldn't wake up from it.

This was, without a doubt, reality wrought by his own hands.


	12. Chapter 11: Ideals

"I don't need your help in this matter, Saber, I can handle things myself." Giorno walked up the stone staircase that led to Fuyuki's main cemetery, his body showing none of the signs of battle any longer save for his ruined clothing.

"You were on death's doorstep just a short time ago; I'm not leaving you alone." The woman behind him no longer wore her armor, having returned to a set of normal modern clothes to not stand out as much. "You saved me today, so this is just my way of repaying you for that act."

Giorno nodded, still reluctant to bring her along. He would rather not risk her being consumed by the Grail again, but he no longer had the will to resist her. So the reluctant pair of heroic spirits had headed to the aid of Giorno's apprentice, through both of them were in no real shape to fight.

It wouldn't matter, for they never made it to their destination. The sound of footsteps descending the staircase stopped Giorno in his tracks, his muscles tensing. Who was it that was coming down? Was it his enemy, the girl who had lot her way, or the child he treated like a brother?

His short lived fear that the single figure headed towards them wasn't Shirou was soon alleviated at the sight of a familiar blonde boy nearing them. Shirou descended the steps with a solemn expression, the lifeless body of Sakura Matou in his arms.

The boy stopped in front of Giorno, his eyes looking up at the man with an empty expression. Giorno could tell right away that Shirou was broken, but the boy tried to hide it. Much like his own façade, Shirou surprised his own emotions, though he wasn't as good at it as Giorno was yet.

"I… failed." There was a hint of sadness in the boy's voice, but he tried to suppress it. He had to be stronger, both physically and mentally, if he was going to overcome this. "I tried… I really did, but I just couldn't do it in the end. I'm not as strong as you thought I was, Boss, I'm sorr-"

"You came back alive, isn't that enough proof of your strength?" Giorno interrupted him, reaching down and taking the girl's body from his arms. Turning to head back down the stairs, he looked over his shoulder at the boy. "I told you to finish it, didn't I? and you have, so I don't see where you've failed at all."

Of course, Giorno was right, but the boy didn't accept it. He had set out with the goal to save her, and she was dead. The ultimate failure, he had done exactly what he'd come to prevent in the first place. Giorno wasn't aware of this however, but he wasn't oblivious to Shirou's desires to save everyone.

An ideal that can't be reached, Shirou thought of Giorno like an invincible superhero. But even he had killed, he had sacrificed his friends and allies, not even he could save everyone. If Shirou continued to walk that path, he would never achieve it, but perhaps after today he might learn to be a bit more realistic.

"Look, Shirou." Giorno had to say something, to try and get through to the boy so he wouldn't end up destroying himself. "Trying to save people is an admirable goal, but it's impossible to save everyone, you're not god."

Shirou never replied to his statement, following Giorno down the stairs in complete silence. He wouldn't speak again for several days, and seemed to actively avoid Giorno while at home. Giorno decided it was best to leave the boy alone, at least for a while.

Giorno returned Sakura's body to Zouken the next day, after carefully making sure to remove any remaining fragments of the Holy Grail from her. The elder Magus appeared to be on the verge of attacking Giorno at the sight of the dead girl, but he held back. Zouken was no fool; he couldn't defeat a Servant no matter how strong of a magus he was.

As Giorno headed to leave Zouken spoke out, making a request he was sure the man would deny. But he tried anyways, even if the boy had no magical power, he was still his descendent. Who knows, perhaps in a few generations magic would return to the Makiri bloodline like a recessive gene.

"You can't raise the dead, but you _can_ heal anything short of it, yes?" Giorno turned back to Zouken, and the old magus smirked. Seems like he had taken the bait easier than expected, now to put the friendship he had fostered between the boy Shirou and him to good use. "I understand completely if you refuse to help me, after all this _is_ my fault. But Shinji had no part of it; he's nothing but a normal child, Shirou's _friend_."

"I understand, you don't have to ask." Giorno quickly turned towards the door. "I would have healed him regardless of your request, but since you insisted… _never_ ask for my help again, or I'll give you a taste of the true hell of eternity."

Giorno slammed the door behind him for emphasis and headed towards the hospital. Shinji Matou was in intensive care after Sakura injured him, and his wounds were beyond both medical science and magecraft. Giorno was therefore the only one who could save him, even if he was reluctant to save the grandchild of someone like Zouken.

But in the end, he couldn't ignore it; he had a soft spot for children after all. It could be called his only mental weakness, but involving children easily distracted him from his true goals. Shirou wanted to live up to the ideal of the Giorno who saved him, but Giorno had his own hero. Even now he walked the path the led towards that man in his memories, but he could never reach it.

An ideal is just that, nothing but a hopeful wish for something that isn't possible. Whether it was world peace or the power to protect everyone, it was impossible. But the goal itself isn't a problem so long as you acknowledge this contradiction, for aiming for the impossible can elevate you to incredible heights.

He entered the city hospital and headed towards the room Shinji was in. He wasn't allowed visitors at this time who weren't family, but Giorno slipped in unnoticed thanks to his high levels of agility. Due to this and the forthcoming miraculous healing, Giorno would create a second urban legend associated with this hospital.

Placing his hand on the boy, the golden light of his Stand flowed into him, instinctively telling Giorno how to heal him. He noticed a strange existence in the boy's body, which almost felt ethereal and not really there. It was similar to the feeling he got when he healed Shirou, who possessed the spiritual organ known as magic circuits.

Not quite part of the body, not quite part of the soul, they were like a foreign substance in the existence of modern magi. From what he understood however, Shinji had none to begin with. Giorno realized then that they were completely inert and non functional, and everything clicked into place. Zouken wouldn't consider broken circuits any different than having none at all, as there was no way to repair them.

Giorno's Stand filled the boy's body with its gold glow, and his wounds vanished without a trace. Passing his energy through the boy's magic circuits, he wasn't sure what would happen, but for some reason he felt compelled to. Maybe it was guilt over not saving Sakura, or failing to save the boy's uncle, Kariya? Whatever it was, he desired to give Shinji at least this much, a chance to live up to his potential.

Unsure if it had worked or not, Giorno left the room, as the boy was beginning to wake up. He slipped out of the hospital like a ghost, leaving nothing but the incredible healing of Shinji Matou as a sign he had been there. At that time he should have returned home, but he found himself headed for the cemetery.

The sky turned an overcast dark grey by the time he arrived, signaling impending rain. In the corner of the cemetery he found a badly maintained grave covered in moss and other weeds. Uncovering the metal plate attached to the gravestone, he revealed the words 'Matou Family' followed by a list of those in the family who had passed on.

At the bottom of the list was a name he had almost not expected to be there, but it seemed even Zouken had some humanity towards his 'children.' At the bottom of the list was the name of his second Master in the fourth Holy Grail War, Kariya Matou.

Kneeling in front of the grave, Giorno bowed his head. He had only been partners with him for about a day, and they had barely talked. But still, he was an ally who gave his life for his dream. Giorno had been too occupied with his own desires at the end of the war and had forgotten his promise with the man, so in a way all of this was his fault.

He should have rescued Sakura and killed Zouken at the end of the war, but he had run away to play gangster instead. Clenching his fist, Giorno suppressed the wave of emotions running through him. His own failure to act had cost Sakura her life, and he had forced the most difficult task onto a child he had wanted to protect.

Without saying a word towards the departed Matou he once called Master, Giorno Giovanna slowly rose to his feet and turned away. He didn't have to say anything; just his being there was enough to say everything he was thinking.

As he exited the graveyard, a familiar presence caught his attention. Turning his head, he caught a glimpse of a blonde girl peering out from behind a tree. The girl tried to hide, but it was pathetically slow, Assassin she was not.

"What is it, Saber? Come to challenge me again?" he turned around and walked slowly towards the tree. He somewhat doubted that was why, she showed no open hostility like before.

"H-Hoh, you see through me easily, but our battle shall have to wait for another time!" Arturia, clearly caught in her surveillance, leapt out of her hiding place dramatically. Doing her best impression of a haughty high class woman, she tried to act like she was in control. "I have other business to attend to, but first I must return something of yours so that we can fight to our fullest in the next conflict, unhindered by our history!"

Giorno hadn't the faintest clue what she was talking about, but the girl seemed rather embarrassed to even be standing in front of him. Was she perhaps upset with him for saving her? He couldn't think of another reason for her current, nervous fidgeting.

Suddenly, she thrust her hands forward, pushing something into his arms. Her face turning red, she rushed off without another word, leaving Giorno standing in the street, confused. Finally, he looked down at what she had given him. In his hands was a purple suit jacket, poorly stitched together from the scraps that remained of the one he blinded her with the night before.

This strange gesture was lost to him, for he still saw her as an enemy Servant. His feelings towards her had changed somewhat, but it still never occurred to him that any change in their relationship was possible. And it certainly never even crossed his mind that any sort of affection could have sparked within her for him.

Slinging the jacket over his shoulder, Giorno Giovanna headed home. He hoped that Shirou was feeling better, but it would probably take time for the boy's mental scars to heal completely.

* * *

Shinji Matou had woken up in a hospital room alone, not a single other person was there to greet him, and there were no flowers or cards waiting either. It wasn't surprising to him in the slightest that none of his so called friends had even bothered to show up, and he had no family members who cared about him.

The sudden wave of memories that flooded his mind when he thought about his family was overwhelming, and it took so much to process it that he froze completely for a full minute. He had been attacked… by Sakura. His hand bolted towards his body, but he couldn't feel any wound, had it been healed by magic?

He was shocked, a look of utter disbelief painted on his face. How could that girl have attacked him? She didn't have the guts to even argue with him, let alone use magecraft against him. Worse still was the fear the gripped him when he remembered her expression, that empty gaze that saw him as nothing but trash.

First his father Byakuya, then Zouken, and now her… were they all looking down on him?! He clenched his fist and slammed it against his hospital bed, but it did nothing to relieve his frustration. He had done nothing wrong, so why did everyone around him look at him with contempt?

That was why he was harsh on Sakura, to prevent her from doing the same. He could have earned her love with kindness, but no one in his family had taught him that, so of course he would try and gain it by force. All of his friends had been made through this kind of method, so of course the relationships were shallow.

It wasn't like he hated her in particular; sure he may have been jealous for Zouken favoring her for her ability to do magecraft, but he didn't hate her. The opposite could in fact be said, for lately he had started to actually care for her like a brother should. Until that unfortunate argument, he couldn't even remember what it had been about. He remembered Shirou's fist connecting with his face however, he supposed that was another friendship that was broken beyond repair.

Hopefully however, it wouldn't be too late to fix things with Sakura. If he was no longer friends with Shirou it wouldn't matter too much, it was his Grandfather's wishes that led to that anyways, but he would still have to deal with Sakura every day.

Zouken didn't pick him up from the hospital, and in the end Shinji went home by himself. It suited him just fine, being a lone wolf was better than relying on others. He didn't really believe his own thoughts, but the alternative was too depressing for him to handle right now.

A sharp pain shot through his body as he walked down the street, forcing him to his knees. Out of nowhere an agony like a hot iron rod being placed into his spine erased the world around him, his senses all went blank against the throbbing pain.

When he came to his senses he was on his hands and knees, staring at the ground. A drop of sweat dripped from the tip of his nose, and through his ragged breathing he gasped for air. What the hell what that? The only thought he had was that it was related to his healed wounds, some magical side effect maybe?

Shinji's concerns about this only hastened his return to the Matou household. While normally he wished to avoid Zouken at all costs, finding the decrepit old man quite unpleasant to deal with, he felt he no longer had a choice.

Shinji's pushed open the door to Zouken's study, finding the old man seated behind his desk. Nearly collapsing from exhaustion, Shinji pulled himself into a chair across from the magus. Whatever was wrong with him hadn't gone away; the pain had just become more bearable.

It was like his body was being invaded by a foreign substance, one which was slowly eroding his body from the inside. Shinji almost laughed, it almost sounded like the descriptions he'd read of untrained magi passing too much energy through their circuits.

But that was absurd; he couldn't just wake up with magic circuits, this isn't how it worked. Zouken had been very clear, he had absolutely zero magical potential and nothing he could do would fix that. So pushing that ridiculous notion aside, he prepared himself for whatever Zouken would say to him.

After an extremely long and awkward moment where neither of them said a word, Shinji had finally had enough. Doing something he hadn't thought possible for him, he initiated the conversation with the terrifying magus before him.

"W-Where's Sakura? Don't tell me that dumb girl is still running amok out there, doesn't she have any idea how this reflects back on me?" Even if he didn't believe it, if he at least _acted_ arrogant and in control, maybe it would become true eventually, that was his philosophy. But when the elder Matou only look at him in silence, he started to worry.

His heart was beating faster then before, the pain in his body flaring up again, his thoughts were clouded quite severely. Something had obviously happened, had the incident with Sakura been more than just her fight with him? At that moment, Shinji remembered the sight of a certain blonde boy appearing right before he lost consciousness.

Fear gripped at his heart, almost making him feel like it was going to burst. No matter how many times he said he wasn't really friends with him, that it was just Zouken's will, he couldn't deny his feelings. Shirou had been his closest friend, losing him would be much more painful then he let. At this moment he wasn't sure what to do, had something happened to him, was he injured? Or was it worse?

"H-Hey, grandfather, what happened? Where's Sakura? And Shirou, is he alrigh-"

"Shinji, stay away from that boy, he's dangerous." Interrupting Shinji, Zouken gave an ominous warning. It didn't sound like actual concern for Shinji's well being, and was directed more inward. "I can't have my grandson be friends with a _murderer."_

"What… did you just say?" Shinji didn't believe his ears, he must have heard wrong. Sure, he knew Shirou was essentially the son of a gang leader, but he was so concerned with helping others… there was no way he could kill anyone. "Shirou killed someone, when was this, what happene-"

No, he wouldn't have, would he? He couldn't kill someone he was friends with, right? The look on his grandfather's face was enough to tell him his train of thought was heading down the right track. The overload of information running through the twelve year old's mind would be enough to cripple an adult trying to understand it all, let alone a child.

There were times he wanted her gone, time he had wished she was never part of his family. But he never wanted her to die, to be killed. He felt as though he had woken into a nightmare, but the pain coursing through his body told him it wasn't a dream. Though Zouken had said nothing of the sort, Shinji couldn't imagine any other scenario.

"I see…" Listlessly, Shinji stood up and turned towards the door, shuffling out of the room. He had forgotten his original objective, to find out what was wrong with his body, but none of that mattered anymore.

"Uuuhhhkkk!" The pain is his body flared worse than before, and soon the room was spinning. His vision went white in a flash and he lost all sense of anything. For a moment, he thought he had died, but the pain reaffirmed his current situation.

When he came to, he found himself lying on the floor. Was this some sort of punishment from the gods? Did they want to make him grovel at their feet? Was even the world treating him as garbage now? Don't be ridiculous; those thoughts had no basis in reality. Standing above him, Zouken looked down at the boy with a strange smile on his face.

Whatever was causing the old man to smile, Shinji was worried about it. Zouken never smiled, and the fact he was now terrified the young boy. But he couldn't run away, his body wouldn't respond to his commands.

"You're full of surprises today, boy," Zouken chuckled. "I didn't expect you to barge in here after checking yourself out of the hospital, but I certainly never expected _this"_

"Wh-What's happening to me, G-Grandfather…?" Shinji panted, each breath he took sending a shock of pain down his spine. If this was his punishment for mistreating Sakura, then he would accept it. But while Shinji wallowed in self loathing, Zouken's eyes could only see the future.

Sakura's death was a huge blow to his plans, and to the continuation of the Matou bloodline. But by some miracle things had changed, he could only guess as to the cause of this change in Shinji. If Giorno's power could repair anything, then it wasn't impossible for him to fix magic circuits.

The next day Shinji had almost completely recovered, the pain having long subsided. It would take a lot of training if he wanted to make use of his unfortunately still limited abilities, but unlike before it wasn't impossible. He had been given an unheard of chance at redemption, he could finally prove his worth to the world, but was it worth the cost?

He hadn't realized just how much he cared about her until it was too late, and the weight of his actions left him feeling disgusted with himself. How could he have taken out his anger on her like that, he was no better than his father like that. Something had to change, he had to redeem himself. But first, he needed to be stronger.

Shinji pushed his nerves aside and stepped into Zouken's study of his own accord for the second time in his life. The old Magus didn't seem surprised to see him and motioned for him to come in, but Shinji stayed at the doorway.

"Grandfather, I have a request." Shinji swallowed hard, his mouth felt dry from fear. If Zouken rejected him now then he was out of options, doomed to be a failure for the rest of his life. "Teach me the Matou craft; I'll become a worthy successor."

"What will you do with this power, once you've attained it?" Zouken was already planning to teach the boy, but he wanted to make sure he was still in control. As long as Shinji played into his hand he would teach him anything; the pawn had just become a knight. "I can't have a successor with no drive; I need to make sure you have the resolve."

"I'll make the Matou name a powerful force in the magus community; I'll show everyone what Shinji Matou is capable of!" Trying desperately not to cry, he locked eyes with Zouken, something that would normally have sent a wave of terror over him. "And I'll get revenge; I'll make the one responsible for Sakura _pay._"

The fire in the boy's eyes told Zouken he was telling the truth, he had never seen Shinji look so serious before. Good, this would do nicely, with determination like that he could turn the boy into a useful piece on the board for once.

"Excellent, let us begin at once."

* * *

Shirou furiously pummeled his target, his fists flying faster than he could even see. Each strike was filled with enough rage to kill his opponent, but they wouldn't die no matter what he did. The reason was simple, his enemy was a sandbag used for hand to hand training.

Sweat rolled down his face as he punched endlessly, his fists bloody from how long he had been at it. He pushed himself well past his limits, his stamina having long run out. Without stopping, without resting the boy poured all of his frustration into his attacks.

"Urraahh!" With a final strike he threw out his fist, the silver hand of his Stand appearing beside him. The Stand punched clean through the sandbag, the contents spilling across the floor as soon as he retracted his Stand. Panting, he fell backwards.

Wiping his sweat away with the back of his hand, Shirou stared up at the ceiling. He was working out like this for one reason, he couldn't sleep. It hadn't been the first time, but his insomnia had worsened since that day. He couldn't close his eyes for long without seeing the face of the shy purple haired girl who used to spy on him from afar just a few weeks ago.

His actions that day had killed one life, yet had protected countless others. Who knows how widespread the damage would have been if he hadn't stepped in? But yet even knowing all of that, he still felt like he had failed. If he had been stronger, could he have stopped the fight without killing her?

Shirou stood up and left the kendo dojo, which was now full of various training equipment for all kinds of exercise. It had quickly turned into Passione's gym, and the only reason it wasn't full of activity was simply how late it was.

He stepped out into the chilly night air, the wind quickly sending a frigid shock through his body. Crossing his arms in an attempt to brace against the cold breeze, he headed towards the main building. A sudden movement out of the corner of his eye stopped him in his tracks however.

"..!" Shirou dove to the side as a shadowy form appeared and lunged for him, narrowly avoiding it. Shirou's eyes widened as he saw what it was, it was one of the familiars Sakura had controlled. His heart beat loudly in his ears; it was impossible for that to be here... she was dead.

"Unlimited Blade Works!" Shirou's Stand manifested next to him in a flash of silver. Before the impossible shadow had a chance to do anything, his Stand drove its hand through its body with an absurdly strong blow.

The world around him distorted, and he was no longer in the backyard of the Passione Estate. An endless sea of fire swirled around him, the gigantic form of some indescribable horror slowly moved in the distance. In every direction there was nothing but destruction, and the thick smoke made it impossible to breathe.

All around him people were dying, burning alive in the hellish landscape that stretched out before his eyes. But his body wouldn't move, it couldn't move. He couldn't do anything; he couldn't save a single person. A hand grasped at his leg, his instincts warning him of danger.

Shirou's wide, terrified eyes made the poor choice to look down at that moment. Staring up at him with dead, lifeless eyes was a girl he knew too well. The reason he couldn't sleep, his greatest failure. Sakura Matou, the sword he ended her life with still embedded in her heart, dragged him into the inferno.

In a way, he felt relieved; at least the vengeful ghost of the girl he killed had a reason to kill him. If she could only rest peacefully after he died, it was a small price to pay. Slowly, Shirou closed his eyes, letting the flames wash over his body. And then, he woke up.

Blinking a few times in confusion, the boy finally realized it had been a dream. More accurately, it was a delusion brought on by extreme fatigue and stress. When he came to, he wasn't in the dojo, or the yard, or anywhere at the base. No, he was somewhere both unexpected and not the least surprising. A massive cherry tree that bloomed all year round as if blessed by a god loomed overhead, its steadfast life force washing away his fear.

He didn't remember how he got here, which should be quite worrying, but Shirou wasn't bothered. He liked it here, enough so that even when lost in his own mind, part of him managed to make it here. It was his savior, he couldn't count how many times this tree had rescued him.

"Isn't it kind of late for little kids to be wandering around?" A voice Shirou didn't recognize shot through his mind, replacing anything he was currently thinking of with shock.

Spinning around where he stood, he looked for the source of the voice. On a park bench off to the left, he saw a figure hidden in the darkness. Not sitting on the seat of the bench, they sat atop the back of it, their feet resting on the seat. Shirou couldn't see much of what they looked like from where was stood, but from their voice it was safe to assume they were female.

Not sensing any outward hostility, he slowly walked towards the mysterious woman. As he neared her, he caught a glimpse of their face under the moonlight. The girl was incredibly pale and her hair was a silvery grey that contrasted strangely with her young face. She only looked a few years older than him, fourteen or fifteen at most.

"I'm fine; I can take care of myself." Shirou stood up as tall as possible but the twelve year old didn't have a very impressive stature yet. He didn't like her attitude, looking down on him for being a kid when she wasn't even much older.

"Maybe, you do look a bit tougher than most brats." The mysterious girl hopped off of the bench and landed in front of him, her loosely fitting hooded jacket fluttering with her movement. "Hey, maybe you can answer a question for me?"

"Sure, I'll try." Shirou had a bad feeling about this girl, but he couldn't place why. Perhaps she simply gave off a strange aura, he wasn't quite sure.

"I'm investigating an incident from a few weeks back, you must have heard about it on the news at least." The girl's voice was deadpan, not a single emotion could be deciphered from her words. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Why would I know, I'm just a student." Shirou turned away from the girl and began to walk away, no longer wanting anything to do with her. "Go read a newspaper or something, it probably knows more than me."

"You what to know what I think?" she called out from behind him, her tone still flat and uncaring. "I think you're lying, boy. Maybe… you and that _shadow _that's standing behind you were involved?"

Shirou stopped dead in his tracks, what was she talking about? A shadow next to him, could she see his stand? That was impossible, normal humans with no psychic or magical abilities shouldn't be able to perceive it. Ah, that's why she felt strange to him, she had an abnormal power.

But wait, he hadn't summoned it, could she even recognize him as a Stand User while his power was inactive?! Whirling around to face her, the change in his expression told her she was on the right track. She reached into one of her coat's oversized sleeves and pulled out a birdcage.

"Add…" Pulling a strange creature from the cage that didn't really look like a bird, a surge of energy filled the surrounding area. The creature transformed into a massive scythe with a monstrous handle covered in twisted markings.

Shirou recognized at once that she was now his enemy, but his legs wouldn't move. The pressure of her magical energy was enough to paralyze him, in that moment she seemed more dangerous than the possessed Sakura to him.

She dashed forward with her weapon raised, cutting an arc down with her scythe to cleave him in two. With an eruption of blue flames Shirou pulled two swords from his Stand's forge without summoning it, crossing them in a block. The scythe easily shattered the blades, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Before he was back on his feet, she had closed the gap between them. He couldn't hope to match her speed or strength, was she using magecraft to enhance her abilities? Well, _he _couldn't keep up with her…

"Unlimited Blade Works!" Shirou's cry summoned his stand in a burst of flames, his sword-construct forming between its user and the unknown girl. Pulling two blades from its body, it deftly parried her scythe.

The blades clashed in a furious symphony of blows, both the girl and the Stand turning into an incomprehensible blur.

His stand's blades broke, the scattered pieces disappearing from reality as if they had never been there. Instead of drawing more swords, the Stand lashed out with its clawed left hand.

The girl cartwheeled away with the grace of a trained acrobat, easily avoiding his Stand's attack. Shirou's Stand was unfortunately a low range type, and began to dissipate as it tried to follow her. With her speed he couldn't go on the offense, he would have to wait for her to come to him.

Shirou wondered why she had attacked him; if he died she wouldn't have been able to question him anymore. She must have anticipated he would survive, and now she was no doubt forming a plan to incapacitate him. Shirou was already worn out from lack of sleep and his intense training, so he was already feeling his limits.

Originally, he could create around ten blades in a day, after getting used to using his stand in combat after it had gone up slightly. He now averaged about twelve to thirteen blades, but with his current exhaustion he would be surprised if he could create even two more swords.

The girl leapt, spinning the scythe in her hands above her head. Her blade came to bear against the Stand, moving faster than even its inhuman reflexes could keep up with. The scythe ran along the figure's shield-like chest, digging a deep gash into the metal construct's body with a shower of sparks.

Blood spurted from Shirou's chest as an identical cut appeared on his body. He dropped to one knee, clutching at his wound. Giorno had warned him about sharing damage with his Stand, but only similar powers were supposed to harm them. He supposed that confirmed a suspicion he had that magecraft might be able to interact with his Stand, he would have to be more careful in the future.

Shirou was running out of time, he only had one shot at this. Based on her clearly superior skill and ability, he couldn't hope to win a straight up fight. He moved in sync with his stand, keeping it in perfectly in front of him. His stand drew a single sword, slashing wildly at the girl.

The sword shattered after a few deflections, and his stand lunged forward. Feinting a blow to her right, she started to avoid when the stand abruptly changed into a roundhouse kick. The stand's foot knocked her scythe into the air, throwing her off balance. Shirou jumped out from behind his stand at that moment, pulling a sword from his stand's body.

With the synchronized movements of Stand and User, the girl had nowhere to retreat to. It was something only a stand user could do, and her lack of experience fighting against someone like him was his only advantage.

Shirou pulled back his sword, preparing to cut her down. With the gap he had created her defenses she was as good as dead, her body was completely open for attack. She was the enemy, and he had been taught to defeat his enemies without hesitation. But as his sword sliced through the air towards her neck, his resolve faltered.

His movement stopped suddenly, the blade mere inches from his unarmored neck. Shirou's breath becoming erratic with the onset of a wave of panic, he dropped his sword and dismissed his Stand. Even if he had taken a life before, he was no killer; he couldn't do it so easily.

His vision started to go dark, was he at the limits of his stamina? That's not good, if he passed out in front of an enemy like this… but he couldn't resist the call of unconsciousness much longer. He fell backwards, but he never hit the ground.

"E-Eh?" he looked up in surprise, seeing the stoic face of someone who shouldn't be there. Giorno Giovanna stood behind him, holding him up with one arm. "Boss..?"

"Sorry, but I'm tagging in here." Giorno picked up Shirou with one arm and dropped him on a nearby park bench, before returning his focus to the girl. "Are you from the Association?"

The gill silently nodded, her body having tensed up since Giorno's arrival. As a magus, she could sense the flow of energy coming from him, and it was like nothing she had encountered before. Only the highest ranks of the Dead Apostles should reasonably feel so inhuman, yet he looked nothing like an ancient vampire.

"Tell the Association that the situation is resolved, I've taken care of it." Giorno didn't expect things to end here, but he'd rather not deal with the Magus Association if he didn't have to. The girl shook her head at his statement, figures.

"That isn't good enough; my Instructor needs to file a full report of what happened."

"If I tell this Instructor of yours everything, you'll leave my city?" Despite his usual calm tone, there was a hint of hostility behind it. Giorno crossed his arms over his chest, the loose leopard print coat on his shoulders shifting against his bulging muscles. "Fine, take me to them so that this troublesome affair can be done with."

The girl nodded and gave a slight bow, before turning away. She gave a slight glance towards the now soundly sleeping Shirou, one which didn't go unnoticed to Giorno.

"Don't worry about him; I'll have one of my men pick him up while we're on the way." Giorno strode out next to her, pulling a cell phone out of his pocket. Quickly dialing a number, he placed the phone to his ear. "Angelo, I need you to send someone to get Shirou, he's asleep on a bench by the cherry tree."

And that was all he said before he hung up, quickly returning the phone to the pocket of his coat. Whether he was uncaring or just confident in the boy's safety was unclear, and she found herself unable to read his emotional state at all.

Perhaps bringing him to her teacher was a bad idea, even together it was doubtful they could handle him. But she had no choice; she felt that if she went against him she would end up regretting it.

They eventually reached their destination, a high end hotel in the newer part of the city. Heading up the elevator they arrived at the top floor, the penthouse suite. The girl opened the door and entered, shortly followed by Giorno. As he stepped in and noticed the other occupant, he felt a strange sense of nostalgia when he laid eyes on the man.

Despite the man's incredible growth since their last meeting, Giorno somehow recognized him instantly, maybe he felt the lingering magical energy from that time on him. Whatever it was, he recalled the young man he only saw briefly back then.

"Long time no see… _Waver Velvet_."

* * *

In a brightly lit hotel room, a man with long black hair sat with his legs crossed. In one hand was an open notebook he was studying intently, and in the other a smoldering, burned down cigarette. The man snuffed it out against a highly filled ashtray and sighed.

It wasn't coming together, the pieces of this mystery didn't add up. While it was possible for the truth to have been obscured, just how could you have _all_ of the evidence so quickly? He had arrived in Fuyuki only a day or two after the incident seemed to have stopped, so there should have still been _something_ left over. But he hadn't found anything these past weeks, it was ridiculous.

"Really, what's wrong with this country anyways?" He closed the notebook with a snap and tossed it onto the table. "Almost one hundred people go missing and not a single person seems to care in the slightest."

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes; the stress of this case combined with fatigue was starting to get to him. He was just about to head to his room to sleep, when the door opened and his apprentice walked in.

"Master, sorry to disturb you," the girl in the hood, Gray, didn't give the impression her apology meant anything, as she continued to bother him regardless. "But I've located someone who claims to have been involved with the incident."

Well now, that was certainly a surprise, he hadn't expected anyone to willingly come forward, maybe now his investigation would escape the dead end it was in? Then finally he could get out of this infernal backwater country, and especially this horrendous city.

"Well now, that's some unexpectedly good news from you, Gray." With a nod, the man signaled to her to let the witness in. It was only after the fact that he would regret this decision.

The girl waved to the man in the hallway, who quickly strode in with the invitation. A larger then life man, with a flamboyant purple suit covered in a butterfly pattern, with two ladybug shaped brooches on either side of a heart shaped opening in his shirt. His blonde hair, his bangs styled into three round curls with a long ponytail in the back. And that face, one that looked to be chiseled out of marble more then flesh and blood, this man was unmistakable.

No, that was impossible; surely he was hallucinating from sleep deprivation? But the man calmly entered the room, ignoring the wish the Magus had for him to disappear like a figment of his imagination.

"Long time no see… _Waver Velvet_." The man's voice, exactly as cold as he remembered it, only deeper from age, confirmed his fears.

This was without a doubt an impossible meeting, a reunion that should never have occurred, and yet it had. The memories of his past that he wished to ignore flowed back to him, along with a very real terror of the man before him. But the man identified as Waver Velvet didn't let it show on his face, he maintained his stern 'Association Instructor' persona.

"Archer… I'd ask how you survived the end of the war, but that would be the least of the absurd feats you pulled." Waver was of course concerned; the only way he knew for him to survive was to take in even more magical energy once the backup of the Holy Grail was gone. This led to the most likely conclusion of the rather disturbing method of soul devouring. Waver's eyes widened at the realization that he very well could be the cause of the disappearances, and was here to eliminate them.

"I didn't eat any souls to survive, Waver." As if he'd read his mind, the former Servant responded to Waver's thoughts. The blonde man moved further into the room, taking a seat across from the Magus. "I'm not quite sure myself how I've gained a human body, but it has undeniably happened."

"Don't act so similar with me, we were never friends," Waver Velvet crossed his arms, a scowl spreading over his face. "If you must call me anything, I would prefer Lord El-Melloi II."

Despite staring down a Servant, a legendary hero with indescribable power, his basic personality refused to change. Had his guest been a more prideful heroic spirit he may have been cut down on the spot, but the little he remembered of this man suggested otherwise. At least, he hoped.

"I'm more impressed by your survival, _Lord El-Melloi . _How exactly did you make it out of that in one piece?"

"Don't underestimate a third generation Magus, I have my ways." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one with a simple magic spell. "And its Lord El-Melloi _II_, I can't stand that title without it."

Truly, Waver Velvet's arrogance knew no bounds. For only one so full of themselves they couldn't see the truth would dare talk down to a Servant, let alone one they weren't the Master of. Wait; there was something very wrong with this situation, why was he casually chatting with this… _thing?!_

"Gray!" He bolted upright, a sudden terror filling every inch of his body. His body and mind must have been in shock before, how could he have not reacted to the appearance of a Servant still existing four years after the Grail War ended?

The girl with silver hair appeared between the two men, pulling her scythe from her coat sleeve. It was a unique mystic code that converted mana into a physical boost in abilities for the wielder, pushing her beyond normal magical reinforcement.

But would it be enough against a Servant? Waver highly doubted that it would, but she held another trump card on top of it. Though, whether they lived long enough to deploy it was another matter entirely.

"I'm not really sure what's going on, but I'll protect you, Master." Brandishing her scythe, the steeled look in her eyes told the outrageously dressed Servant she was serious about taking him on.

The Servant Archer stood up, his height easily matching Lord El-Melloi II's and dwarfing the girl's. He placed his hands in his pockets, taking a casual stance in defiance to the atmosphere of the room.

Was he mocking them? Saying that if he wanted to, he could slaughter them effortlessly? To this Servant, who didn't even take battles against other heroes seriously, Waver felt completely overwhelmed. He clenched his fist in frustration, even after how far he had come; he wasn't strong enough to stand among legends.

Before the final battle of the fourth Holy Grail War, Waver had pledged his eternal loyalty to his Servant, Iskandar the Conqueror. It was the best he could do at the time, but he had always regretted it. What he wanted wasn't to be a subject, but to stand equally beside him as a comrade.

An impossible dream, he realized at this moment that he could never hope to live up to a Servant, how foolish of him to think he could one day. If he could try again, if he had another chance at the ultimate wish granting device, maybe that was what he would wish for.

But he wouldn't have another chance, not for sixty years at the least. Who knows if the three founding families would even keep it going after the disaster of the fourth?

"If you want to fight, I'm happy to oblige." The Servant raised his hand to his chest, taking hold of the heart opening of his jacket and tugging it to the side. He ran his other hand through his hair, his gaze aimed at neither of the mages he faced. "Though, I don't recommend that option if you plan on surviving."

He was right, as much as Waver didn't want to admit it. Neither his own power nor Gray's was enough to defeat a Servant in close combat, and while he couldn't ignore the threat of a heroic spirit walking around modern Japan, there was nothing he could do about it on his own.

He had to survive then, if nothing else then to report that a Servant was running loose. With the full might of the Association, and perhaps even the church if it got bad enough, they should be able to bring down one hero. Therefore, he couldn't afford to lose his cool now, was that any way for a magus to act?

"Well then, do you still want me to tell you the 'truth' of this latest disaster?" The Servant relaxed his posture again, his eyes locked onto Waver's. Reluctantly, the magus nodded, slowly returning to his seat. "Very well…"

The tension somewhat cleared the room as the Servant launched into a massive description of the events that transpired, though Waver felt he was leaving out a few details here and there. In the end he was too paralyzed with fear to do anything about it however and simply let it go.

"Remnants of the corrupted Holy Grail, I see." He wasn't quite sure if he believed it, but it was plausible enough. "Are you sure there was no other cause, how could this happen naturally?"

"I cannot answer that, but the Grail was quite powerful, I wouldn't put it past it to be able to possess its own willpower."

"I suppose this will do, I doubt the Clock Tower will be pleased with such an inconclusive report through…"

The blonde Servant stood up and turned to leave, filling Waver with an instant sense of relief. He was on the verge of breaking down, just like his former self would have done, so the sooner this monster in human form left the better.

"Before I go, I have a final suggestion for your report." The Servant looked over his shoulder, his blank statuesque expression not showing even a hint of emotion.

"Oh? And what would that be?" Waver, somewhat forgetting the position he was in, slipped back into his Instructor mode as he spoke.

"Make sure I'm not in it." his words were flat in tone, but Waver still felt a chill run through his body. That was a threat, right? "Myself, and Shirou, we had nothing to do with any of this, I don't care what you write outside of that."

From the corner of his eye, Waver saw Gray shift positions, and he suddenly had a very bad feeling about what was going to happen next. Unlike him, who had fought in a Holy Grail War and was aware of what this man was, she was in the dark about the danger he posed.

But before he could say anything, she had drawn her scythe and lunged towards the man. Damn it all, she was too impulsive for her own good! He had to figure out a plan to stop her; that was all he thought as he watched the blur of motion that was Gray pass in front of him, but his reaction speed was too slow to interfere.

In a split second, The Servant was no longer where he stood, and Gray's scythe dug into the empty wooden floor at her feet. Before she had a chance to find her target, a hand grabbed her neck from behind. Almost effortlessly the man slammed her into the wall, his grip tightening around her neck.

There was nothing Waver could do; the gap in their strength was far too wide for him to be able to stop him. If he wanted to kill her, he couldn't stop him. But still he stood up, clenching his fists as if he would fight the Servant personally.

"Fine, fine, I won't say anything…" Waver looked at his feet, gritting his teeth in frustration. "If you need me to, I'll sign a geas to ensure I don't"

Geas, a magical contract that binds two parties together, to break one imposes a high penalty, such as destroying one's own magic circuits, or even death. Due to this, a Magus would only sign one as a last resort, proving how helpless Waver was against Archer.

"That won't be necessary, my gang has eyes all across the world, including in the Association." The blonde man released his grasp on Gray, dropping her to the floor. "I'll know if you break our agreement."

"Y-You're lying, the Clock Tower isn't so easily infiltrated." Gray spoke up with a cough, her eyes glaring up at him.

"Perhaps I am, but can you really take that chance?" And with that, he finally left. Not uttering a single word more, he walked out of room and closed the door behind him, leaving the two magi to their thoughts.

Waver's legs buckled, and he ended up on his hands and knees. Breathing heavily, he tried to get a hold of himself. He wasn't the weak teenager he had been back in the fourth war, but the sheer helplessness he was experiencing was enough to return him to that state, if only temporarily.

Taking a deep breath, he stood up, his composure starting to return slowly. He turned to Gray, trying his best to go back to his stern teacher routine.

"Pack your things, we leave tomorrow."

She nodded solemnly and left the room, heading for her bedroom. She had looked like she wanted to say something, but had held back for obvious reasons. This was fine; he didn't want to talk about it anyways.

At least he could finally get out of this damned country.

* * *

The life of the former Counter Guardian, Arturia Pendragon, had returned to normal. At least, as normal as a legendary hero turned defender of the world living as a normal part time worker could be. Everything about her life was bizarre, but more so than usual as she was experiencing a strange feeling.

She couldn't stop picturing the face of the man she swore to kill, her enemy as a Beast of Alaya. But ever since that day, he haunted her waking thoughts, and he had begun to invade even her dreams. What was wrong with her, had he done something to her mind with his powers?

Whatever it was, she wished it would stop. She couldn't concentrate at work; she couldn't relax at home on off days, why was his existence tormenting her? And when she was in his presence, she could no longer maintain a calm façade when looking at him; it felt like her heart would burst the last time she tried to talk to him. For this reason, she had been avoiding him for the past three weeks, but that only seemed to make things worse.

She sighed as she swept the floor at her job, which she had managed to keep after vanishing for nearly an entire month. Her boss said that she was now in some sort of 'debt' to her, and Arturia shuddered to think how she would be asked to repay it.

"What's wrong, Arturia?" one of her coworkers, a teenage girl who worked after she got off of school nearly every day, walked over to her. "Is there something on your mind?"

The girl meant well, but there was no way she could assist Arturia in her current problem. The nature of heroic spirits and magic made this matter well over the capabilities of a modern high schooler. And it's not like she could easily explain it to her either, was she just supposed to say "I'm a time displaced legendary hero?"

"I wish you could aid me in my plight, but I fear it's one I must deal with alone." With another sign she resumed sweeping the floor, content to keep her mind on this menial task. Her face scrunched up in disgust as the image of that man peacefully smiling as he held her passed through her mind. "Unless you know of any method to forcibly purge the thought of someone from your mind, I doubt you can help me."

"Uwah, I've never seen you look so mad before." Her coworker backed away, a concerned look on her face. "I hope you weren't referring to me there…"

"Ah, no, that isn't what I meant." Realizing the misunderstanding right away, she desperately tried to clear up her mistake. She wouldn't let him take this away from her, not the semblance of a normal life she had gained after years of working to adjust. "There's just a man who keeps appearing in my wandering thoughts of late, is all."

She supposed it wouldn't hurt to tell the truth, if only a small portion of it. It seemed to have removed the girl's misunderstanding, but Arturia had a bad feeling about how the girl's eyes were twinkling.

"Wait, are you serious?!" The girl hopped up close to Arturia, her wide eyes staring intently up at the former hero. "This is about a _guy?"_

Arturia was taken aback by how the girl was acting, was thinking about a man who caused her intense grief and agony such a strange thing? Well, she hadn't mentioned that part, but she still didn't see the problem.

"Come on; tell me more, who is this guy?" The girl bounced around the room, having gained an unknown spurt of energy that rivaled Arturia's mana burst. "What's he like, how did you meet? Come on, I need details here!"

Soon Arturia was being dragged along in her coworkers flow, recounting a somewhat altered version of her dealings with Giorno Giovanna. It only seemed to make the girl's interest intensify however, and she grasped Arturia's hand without warning.

"I wish I had your life!" it almost looked like she was about to cry as she tightened her grip on Arturia's hand. "That was the most out of this world tragic love story I've ever heard!"

"Huh, love story?" Arturia's mouth hung open in confusion; obviously this girl had misunderstood her. What about her story was at all romantic? "I'm sorry, Aya, but I don't understand. This man has tormented me for years, how could you interpret any of that as love?"

"Well, isn't that why you can't stop thinking about him?"

"That's not, I don't…" the insinuation was utterly preposterous, she despised him to the core of her being. So why then, had her face began to blush? "He's my mortal enemy, someone I can never forgive! Even if you think his actions are based on love, it's not me he cares for…"

He had saved her from the shadow, even though they were enemies, but that didn't mean he loved her, right? It was ridiculous, that man never showed any emotions, he might not even have any. Except, she could have sworn he was smiling that day.

Arturia's face slowly turned a deep crimson, and she dropped her broom in shock. Covering her face with her hands, she couldn't help but imagine the world as Aya had painted it, as much as she wanted to deny it.

But that only explained his feelings, what was wrong with her? It was obvious, but she refused to admit it. The mere concept of love and Arturia Pendragon was an alien combination, and adding in that man was doing nothing to clear things up.

"I-I have to get back to work now…" Nervously picking up her broom, she quickly hurried out of the room, leaving the highschool girl behind. She was running from the situation when she should be facing it head on… but she just couldn't do it.

There was no way, she didn't love him; she was just confused by Aya's idealistic worldview was all. Shaking the thoughts from her head, she tried to return to normal. But her heart wouldn't stop beating loud against her chest, and she couldn't get _his _smiling face out of her mind.

His arm wrapped around her, the warmth of his body against hers. The strength he had even in that dying body, like he would protect her with his last breath… wait, this train of thought was all wrong! Without realizing it, she had slipped back into thinking about him, which settles it, it was a curse. Only a curse could affect her mind this greatly, such as the shadow's curse that robbed her of her will.

But she remembered her actions then, she remembered their fight. Not once did he use his full power against her, he was always planning to save her. What a fool, who tries to save the life of their mortal enemy?

Arturia finished her work in a daze, barely registering when she had left. Her thoughts were clouded worse then when she had been blackened by the shadow, worse then when she had first broken from Alaya. What was he doing to her? She couldn't think clearly when it was about him, but no, it couldn't be love.

There was no way that she had fallen for Giorno Giovanna.


	13. Chapter 12: Mark

Fuyuki city was peaceful, almost a year going by without any major incidents. The Magus Association hadn't followed up on Waver's report, so that matter appeared to be settled. The rogue Counter Guardian Arturia hadn't caused any trouble for Giorno or his gang either, seemingly avoiding them entirely.

And Zouken Matou… well, he was likely up to something. Giorno had members of Passione keeping a close eye on him, he hadn't done anything worth getting involved with yet. But if the monstrous magus tried anything, they would be ready.

Shirou's friendship with Shinji had recovered somewhat after Sakura's death, but there was still some distance between them. It was possible it would never fully go back to the way it was before, but only time would tell.

Shirou pulled on his school jacket and threw his backpack over one shoulder before quickly heading out the door. The thirteen year old ran his free hand through his golden blonde hair, slicking it back into a spiked look that did nothing to aid his reputation as a delinquent. If it weren't for the fact that his grades and attendance were close to that of an honors student his choice of style would have been a serious problem.

As he walked towards his school, he heard a commotion ahead. Speeding up his pace he came to a large crowd of people, from where he was standing it looked like a fight had broken out. Somehow, he had a bad feeling about this.

"You think you're better than us just because you get better grades? Just because your family has more money?" an absurdly large boy in his middle school's uniform stood over a smaller student. Was this guy even a middle schooler? Behind her were two other students, the three of them together give off a distinct atmosphere of "bully"

"Nah, I just think I'm better then idiots like you who can't even graduate middle school." The keeling victim of the bullies laughed, pushing his blush black hair out of his eyes. From the crowd, Shirou rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration, why did he have to be right?

"You little piece of shit, you think you're so tough," The bully grabbed Shinji Matou by the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. "But your little bodyguard isn't here right now, is he? What's a worm like you think he can do by himself, huh?"

Shinji clenched his fist, a surge of mana that went unnoticed by the masses flowing through his circuits. But he gritted his teeth and stopped himself, he couldn't use magic here. Sure, he could wipe the floor with these punks with the most basic of his magecraft, but he didn't have the skills to mass hypnotize the crowd of people watching them, and he wasn't about to out himself to the world.

The upperclassmen raised his fist, pulling it back to strike. Shirou's body tensed, his instincts taking over. The bully's fist never made it to its intended target, Shirou catching it mid strike.

"Ah! It's Shirou!" one of the girls from his grade who was in the crowd called out to him, but he ignored her. Shirou couldn't understand why the girls in his class were so interested in him, he hadn't done anything to warrant their affection, and even being caught in fights didn't hurt their opinion of him.

For an ordinary teenager, it should have been impossible for Shirou to move as fast as he had, but the gang-star in training had a level of agility and speed well beyond a normal person at this point. Had anyone been paying attention to him they would have seen him move, but it almost looked as if he had teleported into the scene.

Immediately, the bully's face paled. Shirou had quite a reputation around the school, and you would have to actually be stupid to want to fight him. The upperclassmen tried to retreat, but Shirou's grip on his hand tightened, trapping him there. The other bullies fled as soon as Shirou had appeared, abandoning their friend.

"You should get better henchmen next time, _brutto_." Shirou's voice was cold, a result of his mannerisms being based off of Giorno's. But unlike his mentor, Shirou's tone carried a burning rage underneath.

Shirou's fist lashed out faster than the older boy could even see, smashing into his face with the elegance of a master martial artist. The bully fell to the ground with a thud, clutching his broken nose. Several girls in the crowd made an ungodly annoying squealing sound at Shirou's actions, were all girls this stupid?

Turning away from the bully, Shirou extended a hand to his fallen friend. Shinji scowled, but took his hand anyways. Back on his feet, the Matou boy dusted off his uniform, wincing with each movement.

"As dramatic an entrance as always, Shirou Shovanna; did you really have to break his nose?"

"He's lucky that's all I broke, and it's _Giovanna." _Despite being friends, possibly Shirou's best friend, the Matou boy still couldn't seem to get his name right. Shirou turned back towards the school and started off, Shinji following shortly after him. "Why do you let them kick you around, Shinji? With what you can do, they'd be no problem."

"Like I'd waste my effort on those pathetic excuses for human beings, I wouldn't waste a single ounce of mana on them."

Shinji had become aware of Shirou's Stand shortly after the events from last year, not because anyone had bothered to tell him, but because he had seen the Stand himself. Having been awoken to the world of magic, he had gained with it the ability to visualize Stands, and subsequently learned of Shirou's by chance.

It wasn't long after that when Shirou was brought into Shinji's world, the Magus in training revealing his status to his friend. The two friends were held together largely by their knowledge of the other's powers, but the two were happy to have someone who knew the truth about them.

"Then you might want to consider some self defense lessons, or is that underneath the great Magus Shinji Matou?" Shirou crossed his arms behind his head as they walked towards the school. Despite the crowd, he seemed oblivious to how frank he was being.

"Would you keep it down already, idiot?" Shinji slapped his friend on the shoulder, his expression shifting to minor annoyance. "We're at school right now, remember? Some things should be left for more suitable locations, unless you're _trying _to out us?"

"Who's the idiot, me? You're the one over here talking about mana, dumbass!"

"I-I only did that because you were so casual, you threw me off!" Shinji gritted his teeth and glared at the blonde boy next to him. To an onlooker, they might seem like they're arguing, but this was a common occurrence.

Shirou half expected to be reprimanded for fighting, but the school staff had long given up on the problem, and his morning classes passed easily. The trouble happened during lunch, when as he went to sit with Shinji a wall of annoying women had appeared.

More than half of the girls were there for Shinji, who attracted girls to him with a bizarre magnetism, but Shirou had his share of admirers. They had the attitude of delinquents but still remained respectable enough to approach, which evidently was quite a desirable trait.

It's not that Shirou disliked their attention, it was just that he felt had hadn't earned it. If they had been people he had protected or saved in some way, he'd be fine with it. But this undeserved attention did nothing for him.

"Shirou, that was so cool!" and "Amazing, you're like a superhero!" among other comments filled the room as he tried to eat in peace. To his left was Shinji, a short girl in glasses putting unnecessary bandages on his minor wounds. Unlike the Gang-Star in training, the young Magus reveled in his fanclubs adoration; he wouldn't have seemed out of place surrounded by harem girls.

"S-Shirou…" a timid voice broke through the noisy crowd around them, and the boy turned to face it. Standing off to his side was a short girl with black hair tied back in pigtails. "I-I was just wondering if you might want to… go see a movie on Saturday?"

The girl blushed heavily, her freckled cheeks turning bright red. Shirou stared at her for a moment, twirling the pasta on his plate with a plastic fork. Scratching his chin with his free hand; he appeared to be deep in thought.

"Mi Scusi, but do I know you? If not, I don't see why we would have a reason to hang out together." His blunt response sent a shock through the nervous girl, her face freezing in a mix of embarrassment and horror.

"N-Nevermind, forget I said anything!" tears forming in the corner of her eyes, the girl ran off, disappearing from his sight before he had a chance to say anything else. He wasn't an idiot, he understood she was trying to ask him out on a date, but why would he go out with a girl he didn't know?

"What's with her? Hey Shinji, can you believe this?" He turned to his friend, who stared back at him slack jawed. Shirou didn't understand, all he had done was tell her the truth, what did he do wrong? Shinji however, wasn't having any of it when he tried to explain his position.

"Are you an idiot, Shirou? Why does it matter if you know her or not, that girl was super cute." Shinji shook his head in disappointment, visibly resisting the urge to slap his friend across the face. "And don't you dare tell me you had no reason to go out with her again, that's completely beside the point! The date itself is the reason to go, stupid."

Shirou glanced back to where she had run off to, but he couldn't see her at all. It was far too late to follow her, so he'd have to hope he ran into her later in order to apologize. He sighed, social interaction was far more of a challenge than anything he faced as a gangster.

In the end, he couldn't find the girl, and headed home without completing his mission. Having spent the rest of the day worrying about it, he felt more exhausted than usual. Perhaps this is why he didn't notice anyone following him until they had gotten dangerously close. Finally feeling a presence behind him, he whipped around to the sight of a figuring hiding poorly behind a street light.

In a flash of blue flames, he drew a katana with the power of his Stand. Without a second thought, he rushed his pursuer, sliding past the light pole before they could retreat. His blade flashed towards their neck, but he hesitated when he saw who it was.

His body started trembling, realizing the danger he was in. Before him was the woman who continually fought with his Boss, the one who felt so strong he could barely stand before her. There was no way he could beat her, if she wanted to kill him, he was dead. He dropped his sword, his breath becoming uneven.

But his anticipated demise didn't occur, the woman didn't kill him. She fidgeted in place, grinding her shoe against the road, before shoving something into his hands. Without warning, he was now holding an unassuming brown paper bag. If this was some sort of psychological warfare tactic, he didn't quite understand it.

"C-Could you do me a favor?" her voice broke as she spoke, in complete contrast to how she had acted the last time he saw her. "Please give that to your boss… if you don't mind."

Shirou reached into the bag, much to the girl's horror. She reached out her hand to try and stop him, but it was too late. What he found confused him even more, it was a scarf. A badly knitted scarf with a garish green and blue color scheme covered in a pattern of misshapen ladybugs; was this handmade?

The woman's face turned red, and she tried to hide it by pulling the baseball cap she wore over her face to no avail. Shirou was about to say something, but she dashed off faster then his eyes could track her. Maybe it was just because he was thinking about it for so long, but she almost seemed to be acting like the girl who had asked him out before… wait.

If Shirou Giovanna had been a computer, he would have undoubtedly crashed at the latest connection his mind had formed. He lost all sense of time, staring blankly at a concrete wall next to the road. That… that couldn't be right, could it? He didn't want to believe it, so he chose not to. Stuffing the scarf back into the bag, he considered throwing it away, but decided against it.

His mind still spinning, Shirou returned home.

* * *

Giorno Giovanna was on a mission, heading deep into enemy territory. He had only been here once before, but he still remembered where to go. People on the street gave him weird looks as he calmly walked past them, perhaps entranced by his bizarre appearance.

A blindingly white suit in the same style as his others, with a heart shaped hole at the chest. The pattern of the fabric was of roses, unlike his normal insect motif. On his shoulders he loosely wore a long leopard print coat, the arms dangling empty behind him. Finally, wrapped around his neck was a scarf.

A bright blue and green, knitted in a pattern with ladybugs. It would have clashed heavily with his look even if it was well crafted, and it most certainly was not. But Giorno didn't care what other people thought about him, if he did he wouldn't be able to wear what he did on a daily basis.

The scarf had been the final straw, and he could no longer ignore her anymore. He had occasionally wondered about why he continued to leave her alive after each battle, going so far as to sacrifice himself to save her. He had attributed it to some form of warrior's respect, but it never quite explained things. But as he had stood there, looking at the hideous handmade scarf he was given, he felt something.

He wanted to see her, he needed to see her. And so he had without thinking ended up at her house, a decrepit old apartment building in the older part of the city. He had to find out if his theory on her feelings towards him was true, but he also wanted to get answers for himself.

She wasn't Saber, at least not _his_ Saber, but did that really matter anymore? Did it ever really? Saber had been his enemy, an opponent in a deadly battle royale, and nothing more. So any feelings he had for this girl, this white swordswoman, were separate from his relationship with Saber.

After standing in front of her front door for longer than he'd like to admit, he finally knocked. The firm rap of his knuckles against her door strengthened his resolve, telling him he had chosen the right path. She opened the door after around a minute, her hair wet and matted down against her face, a robe pulled around her body with her left hand.

As soon as she saw his face, she blushed heavily and slammed the door closed. At least, she tried to, but he was faster than her. Stopping the door with one hand, he realized his instinctual movement seemed quite… aggressive. This wasn't combat, being too forceful here would be more harmful than beneficial.

"My apologies for coming unannounced, but I have some business I need to discuss with you." Taking his hand off the door, he waited for her reply. Reluctantly, she nodded and opened the door to allow him inside.

The room was the same as when he had brought her home that night, the beginning of the changes to their relationship. Neither one of them had noticed it at the time of course, but that had been the turning point between them. The Counter Guardian Arturia Pendragon was now painfully aware of the change, but Giorno still remained distant from it.

He was distant with all of his emotions, so it was no shock that he couldn't fully connect with any sort of romance, not easily at least. The entire concept felt strange, almost alien to him. He didn't even know if he held any romantic feelings for her, but if he didn't… why was he wearing this ridiculous scarf?

"It itches," His blunt tone caught her off guard, and the young woman didn't seem to know what he was talking about. "The scarf, it itches."

She stared at him blankly, unable to believe what he just said. In that moment she felt like it was hopeless, he would never be able to understand her feelings. He had spent too long in his façade of the unfeeling boss, and now he couldn't get out. Either that or he was intentionally trying to antagonize her, and she couldn't decide which was worse.

He sat down cross legged at her Japanese style dining table, motioning for her to follow. After kneeling gracefully at the other side of the table, she opened her mouth to speak, but Giorno raised her hand to stop her.

"Why?" not a single shred of emotion showed in his voice, his mannerisms even more emotionless then when she was a true Counter Guardian. "Why would you give me this, after everything between us? Are we not mortal enemies, did you not say we would do battle again?"

Giorno had half a mind to attack her right there, to do his talking with his fists. It came more naturally to him, to both of them. But he held himself back, waiting for her reply.

"I-I don't know myself really… I just wanted to, I suppose." She hadn't expected this question from him, but then again, she also hadn't expected him to show up at her doorstep. "In any case, you have received a present from the king of Britain, you should feel honored!"

"And it is a splendid gift indeed, _your majesty." _Giorno dramatically threw part of the scarf over his shoulder, and then leaned over the table. "But I have not, as you must have gathered by now, come about the scarf."

"Very well, Say what you will then." From the look on her face, Arturia must have surely believed he was going to reject her. She closed her eyes tight, unable to bear witness to his response. All of the emotions she had poured into that scarf, things she wasn't able to say, things she wouldn't even admit to herself, it was all about to come crumbling down. There was no way he would share the same feelings for her, could he even express love?

A strong yet gentle hand took hold of her shoulder, and she was pulled forward. A soft feeling against her lips shocked her eyes open. Giorno pulled away from the embrace, his blue eyes piercing through her with his sharp gaze. Her thoughts were a haze, an intense feeling of heat rushing through her body, clouding her mind. What… had just happened?

"I-I… huh?" finally coming to enough of her senses to realize what happened, she blushed heavily, and without thinking punched him in the face. "W-What do you think you're doing all of a sudden?! J-Just because I showed you a little kindness, don't assume we're on the same level!"

Picking himself off the floor, Giorno licked the blood trailing down his lips. There was definitely something wrong with him, for her strike had felt far more natural than the kiss. He had tried it to see how it went, but he was still unsure of his feelings towards her, was it love? Or did he just want to fight her?

"Yes, that's more like it, _Saber_." He stood to his full height, easily six feet and probably more. "This last year, the way you've acted so… timid, it doesn't suit you."

"So what, you've come to antagonize me then?" Arturia leapt to her feet, a surge of magical energy around her forming into her brilliantly white armor. "If that's what you came for, I'd be happy to oblige!"

Arturia did not draw her sword, instead coming at him with her gauntleted fists. Perhaps she didn't wish to wreck her home by going all out, or maybe she decided it was too unwieldy for such a small battleground. Their fists clashed, but it was apparent that neither one was trying exceedingly hard to injure the other. The fight served a different meaning entirely.

For warriors, sometimes the only way to understand one another was to talk with their fists, and they were no exception. Giorno's strikes were light, aimed entirely at defending himself, and while Arturia's fists carried strength with them, there was reluctance in her movement.

"Why, why do you do this to me?" Arturia's restrained emotions burst forth amidst the battle, the fight finally allowing her to speak her mind. "All these years, you show no signs of any feelings towards me, and just when I was ready to give up on you… why?!"

Her fist flew past his defenses, stopping an inch from his nose. Panting, she withdrew her hand. She wasn't going to keep playing this game, letting her emotions run wild around him ended today.

"I can't stop thinking about you," dismissing her armor, she returned to a calm state. "I hate you, _despise _you. My life has been hell because of you, but even then, I still… I still want to see you, to talk with you. I know it doesn't make much sense after what I just said, but I jus-"

Giorno's inhuman speed made its appearance again, and before she could finish her sentence, his arms had wrapped around her body. She resisted out of instinct at first, but soon let down her guard.

"I… I don't know what my feelings towards you are" She couldn't see his face as he spoke, but his words seemed kinder than usual. "Is it love? I really couldn't tell you, but from where I stand, there's only one way to know for sure."

Arturia's arms closed around his back, her fingers digging into his jacket. She wasn't sure when it happened, but she had begun to cry. She wasn't sad, or scared, or even happy, but she cried anyways.

Giorno was a man displaced from his world, as was Arturia. Perhaps that was the answer, the reason a strange bond had formed between them. Both shared similar circumstances, so they could relate to one another in some bizarre way. Giorno was at a loss however, he wasn't exactly sure how to proceed from this point. Somehow, this was the first time in his memory that he had ever held a crying girl to his chest, and the Boss of Passione didn't have a plan for anything of the sort.

Well, it wasn't exactly a bad situation to be in, so he might as well let it play out naturally.

* * *

The Passione estate was woken early that day by a thunderous roar. A warrior forced her way through the low level grunts of the gang until she stood in the yard, sword in hand. With a steeled expression on her face, her emotions were clear.

"Giorno Giovanna, show yourself at once!" Slamming the tip of her bamboo blade against the ground, the woman with short brown hair declared her challenge. "It's been several years since we last did battle, but I've returned to settle things once and for all! Come and witness the fruit of my training and tremble in fear at my perfected sword technique!"

This loud, boisterous woman was none other than Taiga Fujimura, the granddaughter of the local yakuza boss Passione had fought against several years ago. What now seemed like a distant memory was forcefully dragged back into the light of day by the young woman's assault.

Just like that day, she incapacitated the majority of the gang effortlessly. Were she wielding a real katana the estate would be the site of an unprecedented slaughter, but thankfully she wielded only her kendo shinai.

"Show yourself, you cowered!" She rested her sword on her shoulder in a relaxed posture, not taking her current situation seriously in the slightest. "Or has my furious assault left you too scared to even try, Giorno?!"

The estate's door slid open and a young blonde man stepped out, though not the one she expected. His hair was spiked up with an absurd amount of gel, and it was clearly dyed that color. In his hand he carried a wooden bat adorned with nails, a classic delinquent weapon.

"Oi, shut the hell up!" He glared at the attacker with drowsy eyes, obviously having been woken up by her assault. But then he saw who it was, his lips curling into a smirk at the sight of the woman. "Oh? What do we have here? This must be fate, for me to be reunited with my sworn rival so soon after mastering my newest secret technique!"

Taiga stared at the man, a puzzled look on her face. After scratching her head for a second, she lowered her sword from her shoulder and cocked her head to the side.

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

The man's face went from shock, to confusion, to anger within a single moment. His rage boiled up within him like an explosive force waiting to be unleashed. His entire body began to tremble, and he took a combat stance.

"It's Angelo!" He stepped forward, a murderous intent filling the surrounding area. "I'm one of Passione's Three Dragons and second in command of Fuyuki! You defeated me a few years back, and I swore I would have my revenge, but I didn't expect the day to come so soon."

"Angelo?" Taiga's confusion only worsened at his explanation. "But… You're Japanese aren't you?"

"Ugh, shut up!" Unable to control himself a second longer, Angelo rushed her. His fighting style was brutish and without any sort of style, a form that suited his personality well. But it wasn't unrefined, quite the opposite in fact. He had turned his lack of style into the style itself.

Every motion of his body lacked flash or grace, but it was replaced by brutal efficiency. No wasted movements, no unnecessary flourishes, a style meant to do one thing… kill. It was in a sense the exact inverse of Taiga's form, for she practiced competition kendo, a style with no killing intent behind it.

She parried his bat, but the strength of his blow threw her off balance, and a small crack appeared in her shinai. So she shifted tactics to offense, launching into a flurry of blows to force him back.

She threw out a chop aimed for his head, but the gangster dodged easily, beginning a counter attack. His bat cut upward, almost resembling a sword with the flash of the metal nails.

The fight continued like this for some time, both parties clashing 'blades' without making any progress. At first glance one might assume they were evenly matched, but this wasn't the case at all. While Angelo was throwing all of his strength behind his blows, Taiga had yet to even get warmed up. The battle's outcome was determined from the beginning, but the gangster was painfully unaware of this fact.

Slowly but surely, Angelo was being pushed back. He jumped away from Taiga's latest attack, whipping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

"As expected of my fated rival, you can't be taken down so easily. To think I would have to use this against you…"

A mysterious power began to rise within the gangster, though whether it was magical in nature or just his fighting spirit was unknown even to him. His 'sword' gripped in both hands, he raised it over his head.

"Taiga Fujimura, prepare yourself for my ultimate hiding techniq-"

Angelo collapsed onto the ground, a large bruise appearing on his forehead. Standing behind him, Taiga loosely held her shinai in one hand. It had been but an instant, but she had cleared the gap between them and delivered a knockout blow. The unfortunate man hadn't even seen the attack coming, and it didn't help that his stance had been wide open.

After a quick survey of the area, Taiga concluded that there were no more enemies in the area. Pouting at her inability to get a rematch with the gang's leader, she left the estate dejectedly. It was a colossal failure on her part; she couldn't have imagined he wouldn't be there.

"After I came all this way too, why couldn't he be home?" As she dragged herself down the street, a loud rumbling filled her ears, it was her stomach. "Ah, and I already had breakfast…"

Despite having won the battle, the Tiger of Fuyuki suffered a crushing moral defeat. It would be some time before she was able to recover.

* * *

Giorno Giovanna woke to an unfamiliar ceiling, his mind taking a few moments extra to determine his location. Vivid images of the last night's events flooded through his mind, and he sat up sharply once he recalled a specific detail.

His eyes wandered down to the futon he was in, and even though he knew what he would find, part of him still hadn't believed it until that moment. Arturia's blonde hair was splayed out over her pillow, partially obscuring her peacefully slumbering face. His heart-rate increased at the sight of her soft, porcelain skin.

This situation, along with their current state of dress, told him everything he needed to know about whether his memories were accurate or not. Reaching down towards her, he brushed a lock of her hair off her face. Still sleeping, she made a cute groan and tried to bat his hand away from her.

Giorno wasn't sure how to feel about this, it's not that he was unhappy with this outcome, but rather that he was still amazed it had happened to begin with. And despite everything he had been through, his experience wasn't helping him much here.

He got out of the futon, careful not to wake Arturia, and quickly got dressed. Stretching his arms out over his head, he walked to her kitchen area, which existed as part of the same room. Both her fridge and cabinets were almost completely devoid of food, has this really been the way she was living this entire time?

A slight pang of guilt tightened around his chest, but he shrugged it off and headed for the door. His thoughts were racing, trying to make sense of his emotions. Things had happened so suddenly, and yet, he was content with it all. Everything about this felt _right,_ and his gut instincts were rarely wrong.

When he returned to her one room apartment, she was still sound asleep, having rolled onto her back since he'd left. It didn't look like she was going to get up any time soon, which suited him perfectly. Tossing the bag in his hands onto the kitchen counter, he got to work. Soon the small apartment was filled with the aroma of Giorno's cooking and the steady sizzling of a frying pan.

Giorno moved with the grace of a professional chef, preparing a perfect omelet. A groan from behind him told Giorno that Arturia had finally awoken; roused by the call of breakfast no doubt. A smile crept across his face before he even realized; something he hadn't expected. He never let down his mask, not even when he was alone, so why now?

A sheet pulled around her body, Arturia shuffled into the kitchen, still half asleep. Immediately she froze at the sight of him, unable to comprehend what she was seeing. Her cheeks flushed scarlet and she pulled the sheet closer to her body, but she stayed frozen where she stood.

"Giorno, what… wait, t-that actually happened?" The flustered woman looked like she was about to flee in terror, but there was nowhere to hide in her apartment. "Now you must think I'm some sort of low class harlot, huh? God, there should be a limit to one's foolishness."

Giorno elected not to answer her right away, focusing on completing his omelet. With an overly dramatic flourish, he flipped it from the pan and onto a plate. Carrying it to her only table, he gently placed it at the center of a pre set placement of dishes before deftly slicing the large egg dish in two.

"Get dressed; it wouldn't be very kingly to eat while wearing your bedding." Giorno sat down at the table, closing his eyes. "I wouldn't let this go to waste either; it isn't often the boss of Passione makes you breakfast."

Giorno finally knew what he wanted, even more then when he was summoned into this world. Sure, he still longed for his original world, but that was a distant dream. These past years, surrounded by his new gang, Shirou, and the woman before him had shown him something. He could survive in a world that wasn't his own, thrive even. He didn't have to suffer and die in despair like before, no, he wouldn't.

And at this moment, what he wanted was _her,_ Arturia Pendragon. Not Saber, the warrior he fought with and against in the Holy Grail War, but the woman he had saved. He rescued her from the darkness of the Grail, but she was still trapped. She couldn't forget her duty to the Counter Force, and every day she lived in the modern era only seemed to hurt her more. Normally Giorno would have commended such loyalty, but not if it was at the cost of one's own happiness.

She thought it was her strength, but it was a weakness. Desperately clinging to the past, unable to walk her own path, he wanted to save her from this. But it wasn't something he could save her from; it was a choice she had to make on her own. He hated not being able to do anything, but until she was ready to move past this, he wouldn't interfere with her choices.

Following the sound of Arturia sitting down, Giorno opened his eyes. She was wearing her usual outfit, a mishmash of modern clothing that didn't fit her personality at all.

Giorno much preferred her in armor, though he'd be lying if he said this modern look had no charm to it. Even then however, it didn't match his or his gang's style, he'd have to do something about that.

"How is it?" Giorno finally broke the silence, looking up from his plate towards her. "Does it suit your palate, your majesty?"

"Don't call me that, it sounds strange coming from you." She put down her fork and wiped her face with a napkin, her graceful movements were definitely that of royalty. "It was of a higher quality then I've enjoy as of late, if nothing more."

"Then what shall I call you? Arturia? Or perhaps _Saber_?"

"I never wish to hear that name again, it does nothing but remind me of a dark time in my life."

"Very well, Arturia it is. " Giorno ran his hand through his hair and turned away from her, facing the door. "I suppose this means you remember the War, then?"

"Yes, I do. Though it isn't the war you're thinking of, I can tell you that for sure." Continuing to eat his omelet, Arturia's eyes became evasive. "It's not something I'd care to remember, so please do not ask for elaboration."

Giorno turned to reply when the electronic ring of his cell phone went off. Retrieving it from his pocket, he answered it bluntly. His expression hardened as he listened to the speaker on the other end of the line, before he stood up abruptly, hanging up his phone.

"Sorry, I have business to attend to." Grabbing his leopard print overcoat Giorno headed for the door. Arturia stood up, pulling on her own jacket. Without looking back towards her, Giorno opened the door. "What do you think you're doing, Arturia?"

"You look like you're headed off to war with a face like that, so is it not obvious? I'm coming with you."

Giorno wanted to protest, but the more he tried to think of a reason _why_ she shouldn't come, the more he realized there was none. And while he didn't think anything would happen, he would rather have her by his side if it did.

"It's up to you, but I doubt anything exciting will occur." He swiftly descended the stairs outside of her apartment, his overcoat flowing in the wind like a regal cloak.

"If I travel with _you, _trouble will likely find us soon enough." Giorno was shocked, was that an actual joke coming from the stoic counter guardian? Placing his hands in his pockets, he strode down the road, a feeling of true contentment filling him for the first time in a long while.

* * *

A Magus walks hand in hand with death. That was a basic principle she had understood from a young age. But for one girl, the phrase felt quite a bit more literal. Everyone around her suffered; at least that's what it looked like from her limited child's perspective.

When she was almost eight, her friend had gone missing. Eventually the girl's body had been found, the latest victim of a serial killer rampaging through her home town. She had wanted to save her, but it was impossible.

It wasn't long after that when she had lost her parents. Her father's life was claimed by the ritual her family took place roughly every sixty years, and while he had explained to her the danger of it she had never expected him to lose. Her mother was killed by one of the other participants in the so called "Holy Grail War," though she had no idea who or why.

The only reason she knew that much was from digging into rumors that circulated throughout the Magus Association in the wake of the war, and those could hardly be trusted. The new Fuyuki overseer from the Church, Dilo, had elected to remain silent on the matter.

Since her father had lost his life in the war, she had no one to tutor her in the ways of magecraft, but that proved to be a minor obstacle for the young girl. Studying on her own, she dug deep into the books her father left behind; a collection of tomes that stored generations of magical knowledge from her bloodline.

Not having a teacher didn't slow her down; in fact it was rather the opposite. Since she had to work harder, she aimed for higher goals than before. In just a few short years she had all but mastered her family's craft. This came at a cost however; spending all of your free time in a dusty basement practicing jewel magecraft wasn't very conducive to making friends after all.

She didn't care; it suited her better that way. There was no need for friendships that would just be shattered tragically, when something inevitably killed her or them. She had developed a complex without realizing it, starting to believe that anyone close to her was doomed to a horrible fate. This thought was only reinforced when the news of Sakura Matou's death reached her ears.

Her sister, given up for adoption because a Magus needs only one heir, had died. It was reported as an accident, but she knew the truth. Sakura had died because anyone she loved suffered, and with that in mind, the girl shut herself away from others.

She couldn't save her friend, Kotone. She couldn't save her parents, and as ridiculous as it was, she had always thought that she would rescue Sakura. But that dream was shattered, and with it came a change to her personality.

At school, she became known as an unapproachable and cold rich girl, even if her distance relatives managed her estate in her name. She would be friendly in school, but as soon as class ended, she was in a different world.

Yes, things were better this way. If no one got close to her, they wouldn't become a part of her curse. On some level she knew this wasn't the case, but the walls she had built around her weren't so easily taken down.

This was all about to change however, she would reinvent herself. Having transferred to a private boarding school after her parents passed away, she had been gone from her home town for quite some time. But finally, the moment had arrived for her to reclaim her position as the magus overseeing the spiritual land of Fuyuki.

As the so called 'Second Owners' of the land, it was her duty to make sure nothing went wrong there on the magical side of things, a job she had neglected for long enough. At the start of her first year of high school, Rin Tohsaka was finally coming home. A new school where she didn't have a reputation for being distant and hard to approach, it was just the new start she needed.

With her heart still fluttering in her chest, she took the first step towards her new life. Unfortunately, it was off to a bad start, as she had forgotten to set her alarm clock the night before and overslept. Not wanting to be late on the first day, she debated using magecraft to enhance her speed. But well, a fifteen year old running faster than a motorcycle on the expressway would draw a _bit _too much attention.

Through some sort of miracle she managed to get to school on time, if a bit behind the other students. Looking around at the faces in the crowd, she couldn't recognize a single one of them, through it would be more surprising if she had. That was, until she saw a head of dark curly hair that almost seemed blue in the morning light. She cursed her luck, of all the people she knew he was by far the last she'd want to see.

Hoping he wouldn't notice her, she kept her head down and tried to move through the crowd. Before she got very far however she ran headfirst into some form of obstacle, falling flat on her back before she could even see what it was.

"Ah, mi scusi!" In the glare of the sun above her was a hand, reaching out with a strange foreign accent that seemed somewhat false. "Are you alright, miss?"

Taking the hand without thinking, she was pulled to her feet by a strong arm before she had responded. Standing in front of her was the smiling face of a young boy with short blonde hair. His school jack hung loose over his shoulders, and in obvious disregard for the school's dress code two large metal pins in the shape of stars were attached to said jacket's collar.

This guy… was obviously a delinquent, right? His slicked back hair, his outfit, and the way he carried himself all told her he was. He may be smiling, she thought, but it didn't hide his intense presence. And there was something else, some strange quality about him she couldn't quite put her finger on. The mysterious aura about him caused her to unconsciously tense up, a warning signal firing through her body.

There was something _wrong_ about him; he had an aura unlike other humans. Was he perhaps a magus? No, she couldn't feel any residual mana around him, so it wasn't that. But there was definitely something up with him, and if she focused her eyes too long on him she thought she could see a vague silhouette standing behind him.

"Hey, are you okay? Did you hit your head when you fell or something?" The boy let go of her hand, his eyes staring at her intently. What could he possibly be looking at about her with such an expression? Cocking his head to one side, he clicked his tongue and turned away from her. "Typical, a pretty face but nothing much up stairs."

"W-Wha…" She stared him dumbfounded, a brush appearing on her cheeks. Being complimented on her looks caught her off guard, almost making her forget the second half of his statement, almost. "What did you just say about me, you… you delinquent!"

Crap, it was her chance to make a good first impression, and here she was yelling at the first guy to talk to her. But her concerns with that would have to wait, for her anger towards the blonde boy was boiling over inside of her. What nerve, calling her stupid before she had said a single word to him!

"Oh, she _can_ speak! I was starting to think you were mute or something." His gaze focused towards the crowd, he waved his hand to catch the attention of another student, totally ignoring the angry girl behind him. "Yo, Shinji!"

Rin's body shuddered at the name he said, was her luck really that bad? The last person she wanted to see, who she had painstakingly avoided, was now walking over to where she stood with a grin painted on his face. The way he acted with the blonde delinquent made it clear they were good friends, which didn't surprise her at all.

"Hanging around with punks now, Shinji?" Well, if she couldn't avoid him, she might as well go on the offensive. "I didn't know it was possible for my opinion of you to sink even lower then it was before, but I guess I was wrong."

"Huh? Shirou, who the hell is this?" Shinji scowled at her past the blonde boy now identified as Shirou. It seemed that she was worried for nothing, as Shinji didn't even recognize her. However, a fire lit inside of her at that realization as well, and she couldn't decide which option was worse. She didn't want him to remember her, but on the other hand… how _dare_ he forget her so easily?

"Wait, you _can't _be…" Shinji strode past Shirou, getting himself far too close to her for her liking. The teen laughed, a sound every bit as annoying as she remembered. "I must say I'm surprised to see you here, Rin Tohsaka! I thought you had run away from this awful city years ago."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I was only away temporarily." No longer able to stand Shinji's presence, she pushed past him and started to run off to the school gates. From the increasingly distant voices of Shinji and the other boy she caught another comment from Shirou about her looks. Trying to resist blushing she rushed into the school.

This was the beginning of her return to Fuyuki city, and while it hadn't gone perfectly, she was happy to be back. However, she wasn't about to let her guard down around that Shirou, not when she didn't know what made him feel so strange to her.

And if he turned out to be a threat of any kind to her home or those around her, she would deal with him appropriately.

* * *

The last year of Shirou Giovanna's life had become rather strange, more so then what was usual for him even. While he had continued his training, pushing the limits of his Stand farther with each passing day, his personal life had shifted dramatically.

Due mostly to his best friend's pushing him into it, Shirou had become somewhat of a ladies man around school. At one point he had even been challenged by Shinji to see how many different girls they could date consecutively. While he couldn't beat his friend's popularity, it wasn't in his nature to back down from a fight, and the young Gang-Star had given it his all.

This playboy reputation had stuck to him quite badly, and if he was perfectly honest it was incredibly tiring. He often found himself sneaking out of school so that no girls had a chance to ask him out, just so he could have some time to breathe.

More offputting then his spike in popularity with the opposite sex was the change between the boss and that swordswoman. The woman known as Arturia had ceased being their outright enemy a while ago, but this was different from even that. She was now closer to an ally, even involving herself in the gang's workings from time to time.

Shirou definitely preferred her to be on their side, even if being around her still worried him. It didn't seem like she was a threat anymore however, especially not after he learned the cause of her newfound interest in the gang. One day after sneaking out to train in the middle of the night he had passed Giorno's room just as she exited, but the two had silently agreed not to talk about it and it hadn't come up since.

Who Giorno was with wasn't his concern, he knew that. But it still bothered him, the entire idea was strange. He just couldn't imagine his stoic boss in a romantic relationship at all, the thought was truly baffling.

All of these thoughts however were at the back of his mind this morning, for he had something more urgent to deal with. Giorno had requested his presence in the dojo, and Shirou had a good idea of what that meant. It had been quite a while since they had sparred, the boss probably wanted to check the progress of his training.

His body still ached from his last night's training; of particular note was the throbbing bruise between his left shoulder-blade and the back of his neck, of which he couldn't even remember getting. But his body was always covered in such injuries, it wasn't anything he couldn't push past.

Entering the dojo he saw the only other occupant immediately, his boss and guardian Giorno Giovanna. Standing as still as a statue in the center of the room, Giorno turned his head slightly at the sound of Shirou's arrival. The Gang-Star's stance shifted, a menacing aura filing the dojo.

"Shirou, I'm sure you understand why I've called you here," Giorno's hands clenched into fists, a golden glow enveloping them. The boss of Passione wasted no time in getting to his goal. "You've polished your stand far faster than I expected, show me the fruits of your labor."

"Don't think it'll go like it used to, Boss!" Shirou strode out before Giorno, a silver aura flowing out of his body. "I'm not a weak little kid anymore; my Unlimited Blade Works is every bit as powerful as your Gold Experience!"

Shirou's Stand manifested behind him, the mass of swords twisting into a humanoid shape. Thanks to his efforts he no longer struggled to maintain his stand for long periods of time, and summoning it was second nature. Like the sound of metal blades scraping against each other, the stand unleashed a cry as it was summoned.

"Kiri!" The stand crossed its arms over it's shieldlike chest, mimicking the motions of Shirou's own arms.

"I don't doubt the power of your Stand, not even I can create something from nothing like you seem to," Giorno took hold of his shirt's opening with one hand, pulling it to the side in his signature pose. "But there's more to strength then your Stand's abilities, you need to show me if you can handle them!"

Giorno dashed forward in a flash, his body disappearing from Shirou's vision. A fist as hard as steel struck him in the ribs from the side, and the boy found himself face first on the ground before he could react.

Back on his feet before Giorno launched a followup attack, Shirou brought his Stand out before him. It pulled a sword from within its body and threw it at Giorno at a speed that nearly broke the sound barrier.

"Muda!" Giorno's golden fist roared out, shattering the sword like it was made of glass. The shards of the blade flashed gold for a moment before transforming into numerous seed pods, bursting into vines in mid air.

Shirou ran into the vines rather than avoid them, a bold move for sure, but he hoped to catch Giorno off guard. His stand burst through the vines, throwing two blades towards Giorno. While the Gangstar evaded them, the Stand reached towards its chest, its hands sinking into the crack running down its shield shaped chest.

"Don't think you know everything my Unlimited Blade Works can do, Boss!" Shirou crossed his arms in front of him, pointing his left index finger towards Giorno. "I've figured out an ability that I haven't revealed before now, my Blade Storm!"

Pulling apart the two shield halves, Unlimited Blade Works revealed the burning blue flame within its body. The fire flared up, and from the Stand a barrage of small knives and daggers fired like a machinegun. The rain of weapons drowned out all other sound in the dojo.

As soon as the attack stopped Shirou recalled his Stand to his side, a smile on his face. That attack wouldn't have done any lasting damage to Giorno, but there was no way he could have avoided taking a hit with that many swords flying towards him.

"Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

Shirou froze at the voice coming from behind him, slowly turning to see Giorno leaning against the wall of the room, completely unscathed. That wasn't possible, nobody should be able to move that fast! The overwhelming strength difference between them became readily apparently, and Shirou's heart sank when he realized how far away he was from Giorno's level.

But if there was anything he had learned from Giorno, it was never to give up. Even if it seems impossible, it only truly becomes so if you give up. His stand drew two more blades, one short dagger and one long straight sword. Throwing both in succession, Giorno slapped the dagger away harmlessly and dashed past the sword, which embedded itself in the wall.

Giorno threw out a punch, but Shirou's Stand blocked it with its right forearm. The damage the Stand took sent feedback through Shirou's body, a cut appearing on his arm in the same location as Giorno's blow against the Stand.

The Stand raised its fists and let loose a flurry of punches, each coupled with a cry of it's metallic voice. Giorno met the assault with his own, the exchange quickly becoming a blur.

"Kirikirikirikirikiri!"

"Mudamudamudamuda!"

Giorno leapt over the Stand, delivering a flying kick to Shirou's body and knocking him off his feet. Panting, the young Gang-Star didn't get back up. He couldn't keep up with Giorno in a prolonged fight, so he had gone all out from the start and exhausted his stamina. Each sword took more out of him, and his Blade Storm was no exception.

"Perhaps I expected too much from you, but I had hoped you could at least wound me by now, Shirou." Standing over the downed teen, Giorno cold expression cut into Shirou like a knife to his heart. Along with his words Giorno might as well have said what Shirou was thinking about himself, that he was useless.

No, he wouldn't let it end like this! Focusing his mind, he attempted something with his Stand he had never tried before. Giorno's attention was completely turned towards him, so he only had one shot at this.

"You think I'm done already, don't make me laugh!" Shirou forced himself to rise, getting back up into a kneeling position on one knee. "Don't underestimate me!"

A sword appeared in his outstretched hand, and the boy lunged at his mentor. Giorno caught his arm mid wing however, stopping his attack in its tracks. Shirou strained his muscles, but he couldn't break free from Giorno's grasp.

"Is that all? What a disappointing last attack."

And then Shirou laughed, a smirk crossing his lips. Giorno couldn't figure out what had caused this, there was nothing left for Shirou to do, he had lost. Shirou raised his free hand, his body trembling from some unknown cause. Closing his eyes, Shirou snapped his fingers.

"..!" Giorno had figured out his plot too late, dropping Shirou and trying to avoid the obscured attack, but to no avail. A dagger dug into his leg from behind, the same dagger Shirou had thrown before.

It was a complete miscalculation; Giorno hadn't even considered the possibility Shirou possessed another hiding power. He had been surprised at the so called Blade Storm, only having narrowly avoided it thanks to his absurd reflexes, but the way Shirou had talked about it made him let his guard down, thinking it was the last of his Stand's secret abilities.

But there was another, one that made so much sense that Giorno could slap himself for ignoring the possibility. Shirou could manipulate the swords he created after the fact, even going so far as to levitate and fire them remotely. It was quite simply a game changer, such as when he learned his life creation could be used to heal wounds.

Giorno removed the blade from his leg, quickly healing the wound with his stand. With the blade in his left hand, he reached out his right towards Shirou, picking him off of the floor. The teen dusted off his clothing and looked into Giorno's eyes with a smug expression.

"Very good, you pass." Giorno handed the boy his blade and turned away, heading for the door. "From this point onward, I expect the best from you as an officer of Passione."

Shirou stared at the back of Giorno's head, dumbstruck. Had hadn't just said that, was he serious? There was absolutely no way, he wasn't nearly strong enough for that kind of promotion in the gang!

"Wait, are you sure?" Following Giorno out of the Dojo, Shirou dismissed the dagger in a flash of silver. "I'm still nowhere near your level; we're not even fighting on the same scale!"

"Oh? And who said you needed to be as strong as me to be an officer? It simply means you're one of the strongest members of Passione right now, regardless of how you rank against my own strength."

Shirou let it end there; he knew better then to argue with Giorno. Once his mind was made up there was nothing he could do to change it, so he didn't even try. But still, an officer? Sure, he was probably about as skilled as Angelo, but he was only really an officer due to his seniority as a founding member.

He might have managed a hit on Giorno, but it wasn't a trick that would work twice, and he still had a long way to go. Because Giorno's Stand was a part of his body, he could fight at full strength much easier then trying to control one remotely while also being in the battle.

Shirou headed to his room, exhausted from the sparring session and mentally drained from his current thought process. And that pain in his neck was throbbing worse than before; he must have wrenched it during the fight.

The next day, Shirou awoke not to a throbbing pain, but to a stabbing, sharp agony. Like a blazing hot nail had been driven into his neck, the pain made his mind go blank. After a few moments it had subsided however, the pain almost completely disappearing. Grabbing his neck his fingers found blood, and he rushed to a mirror. Pulling down his t-shirt's collar he saw a strange red marking on his neck.

Like a symbol had been carved into his flesh, his neck now bore a star shaped mark in three distinct parts. A five pointed star outline split down the middle around a solid center star. Shirou blinked in confusion, but the mark didn't disappear, it was real.

"Oh? What an unusual location, they normally appear on the back of the hand." A voice from behind him caught him off guard, and he fell to the floor trying to turn around to face it. Giorno's stoic expression showed a slight hit of amusement at it, Shirou through.

"W-What are you talking about, Boss? Do you know what this is?" Panicking, Shirou pointed to the star shaped mark on his neck. "Is this another side effect of being a Stand User?"

"No, this is the mark of something greater, you've been chosen."

"C-Chosen?" Shirou was pretty sure he had never heard anything more ominous in his life, just what exactly had 'chosen' him? "I don't understand, what is this mark?"

"Shirou, it's about time I told you… about the Holy Grail War."


	14. Chapter 13: War

It was a dream he had seen many times before, one of fire and destruction. The city burned around him, and the air was so thick with black smoke he couldn't breathe. In the distance, the roar of an unknown monstrosity shook the earth itself, sending a wave of terror to his core.

But it was different this time, where before he had been helpless, now he was strong. At his feet numerous hilts stuck out of the ground, a sea of blades stretching out in every direction. Wherever he looked, more swords filled his vision.

The monstrous beast rose up, it's blazing red eyes cast down on him. But Shirou Giovanna was unafraid; he could defeat a creature like this with his own power now. At his command his swords rose into the air, shooting like cannons towards the beast.

But it wasn't enough; an attack of that magnitude would never defeat such a powerful enemy. He needed something more; just the normal swords at his disposal weren't enough. Raising his hand out before him, Shirou imagined a blade. A blade strong enough to defeat the monster before him, one that could cut down anything, nothing else would do.

A silver hilt appeared in his hand, and an intense white glow emanating from blade threatened to blind him. He couldn't make out the shape of the sword from within the light, but he could still feel its power. Shirou clutched the ornate basket hilt with a strange pointed pommel that almost resembled a cat's ears, drawing it back to strike.

Before the blackened giant that had haunted him for as long as he could remember, Shirou finally felt at peace, the blade in his hands would lead to victory, he knew it would. He rushed towards it, leaping up to attack the monster directly.

The sound of Shirou's morning alarm cut through his dream, and before he had time to understand what was going on he was staring at his ceiling. The vague images from his dream began to fade as soon as he opened his eyes, but the image of that sword hilt stuck in his mind. He couldn't remember ever seeing a blade like that before, and he had certainly never created one with his Stand, so just what was it?

That strength he had felt in the dream… how could he achieve it in reality? Shirou held his hand out above his head, his palm outstretched, before clenching it into a tight fist. He had pushed his training even more then ever since he had learned his new destiny, but would it be enough?

"The Holy Grail War huh, it sounds too ridiculous to not be true." Shirou stood up, touching the star shaped mark on his neck. He almost expected it to be gone, but the mark was still there. A Command Spell, the mark of one chosen by the Holy Grail to be a 'Master' to a powerful hero of legend.

He had seen many strange things since becoming Giorno's companion, but the idea of this war was still something hard for him to comprehend. And really, did magi always have to do things in such a roundabout way?

Quickly pulling on his school uniform, Shirou headed out into the hall. It had been almost a year since he had gained the Command Spells, but yet nothing had happened. Giorno had said that many Masters are chosen well ahead of time, but the lack of knowing put him on edge. Had other Masters begun to move yet? Were Servants already being summoned, or was it still too early?

Shirou had no idea, and he couldn't stand not having any idea. It was the exact opposite of his battle strategy, to know everything ahead of time so not to be caught off guard. Maybe he should ask Shinji, who was actually a magus unlike himself. He hadn't told Shinji about being selected as a Master on the off chance they became enemies, but perhaps he was being overly cautious.

As he entered the main hall Shirou's body stiffened, a subtle shift in atmosphere sending a shock through his nerves. His honed instincts picked up on something few would have ever noticed, and before he could determine the cause his body was already moving in response.

Shirou spun around, throwing a tight straight punch directly behind him. A blow aimed for his own head passed easily across his own strike, stopping barely an inch from his face. In contrast, his attack would have had no chance of connecting if he had actually taken that counter.

The two men stood, locked in a combat stance. The older of the two was perfectly calm, seemingly as still as a statue. Shirou on the other hand was breathing heavily, and his entire body was shaking from his nerves.

"You've improved; just a few months ago you wouldn't have noticed my hostile intent." Retracting his arm, Giorno Giovanna looked stoically towards his apprentice. "You've made remarkable progress, a bit more and you might even be a match for me."

Shirou relaxed his guard, finally realizing it was just the Boss. While Giorno had begun to throw unexpected surprise attacks into their training routine, Shirou couldn't get over just how real Giorno's killing intent felt. He might be trying to train him, but he wasn't pulling his punches anymore.

"Don't even joke around like that, Boss." Shirou replied, turning back towards the kitchen. "I doubt I could catch up to you in two lifetimes, you're just too strong."

The two men headed into the kitchen side by side, their frames having become remarkably similar. Shirou had been a bit on the short side for his age, but the more he trained his Stand the more his body grew, was it a mutation like his hair color? Natural growth spurt or not, he was now easily the tallest boy in his class, possibly the school, and he rivaled Giorno's stature.

"Don't underestimate yourself; your combat intuition is about as good as it can be without real battle experience." Giorno strode to the fridge, dramatically swinging the door open and bringing out a variety of ingredients. "And in terms of effectiveness, your Stand is vastly more suited to close combat than mine."

Giorno turned to the counter before him; the knife in his hand flashing faster then Shirou could follow. Giorno quickly transformed the raw ingredients before him into an omelet that looked far more professional than it had any right to.

The two sat themselves at the dining table, the large omelet split into thirds and placed around the table. Almost as if summoned by a spell, the third guest appeared for breakfast in a blur of movement that easily exceeded human ability.

"Morning, Arturia." Shirou turned to the girl, greeting her between a bite of his breakfast. He wasn't sure when he had gotten used to this, but it now felt like she had always been a part of the household. Too entranced by the food, she didn't even respond to him in words, merely nodding in his general direction.

"Well, I'm off. " Shirou stood up and headed for the door, grabbing his school bag from the hall without looking back. Leaving the base of Passione that served as his home, he passed a man with dyed blonde hair dressed like a stereotypical Japanese gangster. "Yo, Angelo!"

Angelo waved at him wordlessly, leaning against the estate's outer wall with a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips. And finally with that, Shirou was out into the world. As he walked towards school, his thoughts drifted back to the fragments of his dream.

He tried to picture the sword, but he couldn't make out the full shape. From the hilt, it could be assumed to be a rapier of some sort, but imagining it as such didn't quite feel right, even if he couldn't say why. Shaking his head, he tried to forget about it, it was just a dream. His real focus should be on improving his actual abilities, not chasing some fantasy.

Before he knew it, he was walking alongside one Shinji Matou. It was such a common event he didn't even pay him any mind and continued to silently head to school. His thoughts turned towards the impending Holy Grail War, a looming dread taking root in his heart. Was he really ready for something like that?

"-rou, Shirou!" Shinji's hollering voice finally cut into his train of thought, jolting him back into reality. The young magus stared at him, his face not even trying to hide his annoyance. "Stop daydreaming for a minute, will you?"

"Ah, Shinji… sorry, I just have a lot on my mind."

"Listen up, there's this first year girl I've got my eye on…" Shirou, used to Shinji's playboy nature, started to tune out when he began to describe his newest target. When it sounded like he was getting to the point, he started to pay attention again. "So, she won't go out with me alone, and we need one more for the pairings to be even, can I count you in?"

Shirou wouldn't get a chance to reply however, for the two were interrupted by a boy their age with neatly styled black hair. Pushing his glasses up on his nose, he walked over to them. Shinji audibly sighed at the sight of him, and Shirou wasn't pleased either. He was the student body president, Issei Ryoudou. Shirou didn't have anything against him personally, but his somewhat delinquent nature clashed heavily with how proper Issei was.

"This is no time to be talking about girls, Shinji, you'll be late." Issei focused his attention on the Matou boy, having long abandoned hope for Shirou. In their first encounter, he had tried to enforce the school's rule against dying your hair blonde, and he hadn't listened to Shirou's claim to it being his natural color for the entire first year.

If he was being perfectly honest, he was glad for the interruption. Shirou wasn't really interested in whatever Shinji had been talking about, and he had already forgotten what it was. With a slight bow towards Issei, Shirou sped up his pace and rushed to his class, leaving Shinji behind.

Feeling eyes glaring at him as he walked through the hall towards his class, he turned around to see the afterimage of someone dashing behind a corner. His first instinct was to assume danger, but he quickly stopped himself. The likelihood of there being an enemy in school was next to none, and it was probably just one of his admirers. Shrugging, he entered his classroom without a second thought.

The murmuring of his class was more energetic than usual, and after a few minutes he finally had to know why. Asking the nearest student, her response was that they were apparently getting a mid year transfer student. It made sense for them to be talking about that, it wasn't a common time of the year for transfers.

"Man I hope it's a cute girl, right Shirou?" The student beside him, a boy named Gai Gotou directed his comment at Shirou. On the young gang-star's mind was nothing a normal student should be worried about at this news, but he couldn't shake the strange feeling he had.

The timing was too convenient, was this connected to the Holy Grail War? He wouldn't let his guard down, but it was still too soon to assume they were the enemy. He couldn't help but feel like he was becoming paranoid, but the threat of the war was looming closer every day, and it would definitely begin soon.

Dashing into the classroom like a wild animal, their teacher finally arrived. Looking like she had just sprinted all the way from her home she braced herself against the blackboard, barely avoiding collapsing. Taiga Fujimura was anything but punctual, a trait most of the class wasn't too concerned with, as they themselves had no reason to rush.

In contrast to the wild entrance of their teacher, the figure that followed her in carried themselves with perfect grace. Seeming incredibly out of place in this school, the transfer student seemed like she should be in a high end private school.

While Shirou wasn't obsessed with women like some of his friends, especially Shinji, that didn't mean he couldn't recognize attractiveness, and if he was asked right at this moment he would likely have called her a 'perfect beauty.' Not that she was the most beautiful women he had seen before, but merely for the fact that she had no visible flaws.

Brushing her hand through her long black hair, which was tied in a half-up style in the back, she didn't bother waiting for Taiga to say anything before she introduced herself.

"Misaya Reiroukan, pleased to make your acquaintance." Bowing, she smiled at the class. It wasn't a kind expression however, feeling more arrogant than anything else. Shirou was suddenly reminded of another student in the school, though from a different class.

Yeah, this girl was a lot like Rin Tohsaka, he wasn't sure how he had gotten that impression so quickly, considering she had only said one thing so far. Both held themselves with a level of composure and grace well beyond a public high schooler, but was that it? No, it was deeper than that, like he could sense something about their basic nature that was similar.

Lost in thought he hadn't noticed that Misaya had approached his desk until it was too late. He could suddenly feel the angry glares of the other boys in the class, as if their eyes were saying "Why is it always Shirou?" He himself didn't have an answer for them, but it seemed the stronger he became as a Stand user the more women were drawn to him, was this another drawback to having power?

Without warning the transfer student Misaya Reiroukan leaned over his desk, getting uncomfortably close to him. Through the cry of outrage from his friends he heard her whisper something into his ear.

"Don't worry, I'll wait until you summon yours." With a coy smile she turned away from him and took her place at the empty seat in the back.

Shirou felt like his heart had stopped, or that maybe his blood had turned to ice. Whatever it was, he was frozen in place by a cold feeling coursing through his body. He would have attributed it to fear, but something about it felt unnatural. But just as suddenly as it started, it had passed, leaving him unable to comprehend what had happened.

Regardless of what he had just experienced, her words confirmed something, she _was_ the enemy. The real question is how she had known he was a Master, was it so easy for a true magus to figure something like that out? If so, his earlier hesitation was gone, he had to recruit Shinji before it was too late.

He passed the rest of the day in a daze, barely remembering anything that had happened. Finally, the time had come, and he found Shinji as he was headed to club activities. For some unknown reason to Shirou, Shinji had taken up archery in high school, and was now the vice captain of the team.

"Hurry up with it, I'm going to be late." His arms crossed, Shinji growled at Shirou, who had forcibly dragged him behind a storage shed for the athletic clubs. "What's so important it can't wait until practice is over, Shirou?"

"Shinji… do you know about the Holy Grail War?" Not sure where to start, Shirou asked a question that seemed incredibly stupid after the fact. Shinji was a magus, and one that lived at the site of the ritual, there was no way he wouldn't know about it.

"Who do you think you're talking to, I'm the greatest magus in Fuyuki, of course I know about it. How the hell'd you learn about it?" Shinji's expression changed from anger to shock, having likely jumped to the correct conclusion. "Wait, you're not even a magus, so how?!"

Shirou backed away from his friend by one step, feeling an unmasked malice within him. They were friends, but when Shinji lost his temper things still tended to get ugly, and he would rather avoid tangling with the self proclaimed strongest magus in the city. His retreat was short lived however, when he tripped over a sudden obstacle, falling flat on his back.

A small animal jumped on top of him as if to pin him to the ground, though it wouldn't be much trouble for him to force the creature off of him. It was a young fox, the animal that served as Shinji's magus familiar. Shirou remembered when he had created it, he had been happier than he'd even seen Shinji before… or since.

"Nice work, Koma." At the sound of Shinji's voice, the fox leapt off of Shirou and landed on Shinji's shoulder with unnatural agility. "Can't have our friend skip out before he explains himself, now can we?"

As soon as the fox was off of him, Shirou jumped back to his feet. Every muscle in his body tensed, his well honed combat instincts kicking in before he had even realized it. If he was careful he would be able to avoid a physical conflict with Shinji, but he wouldn't ignore the possibility of it coming to blows.

"Was that really necessary? I'm not your enemy here Shinji, you know that."

"But do I really though? After all, the grail can only select one winner."

"Of course you were picked too, I should have expected that." Shirou sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I was hoping we could work together, but if we're both Masters I guess that won't be possible."

Shinji's body trembled, his hands closing into fists. The tension in the air between them was enough that Shirou could hardly breathe. Shinji stared at him, not uttering a single word.

"You're probably shocked, huh? I mean, I'm not even a magus." Shirou's gaze fell to the ground, no longer able to handle the intense stare from his friend's eyes. "I know we're meant to be enemies here, but together there wouldn't be anyone who could stop us!"

"Heh, when did you become such a comedian, Shirou?" Shinji threw his head back, letting out a sarcastic laugh. "Why do you think I even need your help? I can win even without summoning a Servant; it would just hinder my magecraft."

"What are you saying, Shinji? A Master without a Servant doesn't have much chance of winning…"

"I know that!" Shinji's eyes bulged and he his teeth clenched in anger. Moving faster than Shirou's eyes could follow, he closed the gap between them, grabbing Shirou by the collar of his uniform. "How dense are you?! Just looking at you feels like I'm being mocked! How could you be picked over me when you're not even a magus?!"

The young magus, his blue toned hair blowing slightly in the open air looked to be on the verge of bursting into tears, but he steadfastly resisted. Shirou recognized the pained look on his face; he had felt it many times before. His friend's face was one of powerlessness, someone without confidence in his own strength.

"Shinji… I didn't choose this; I'm not trying to mock you." Shirou could feel his words falling on deaf ears; he couldn't get through to his friend. He could only imagine how betrayed he must feel, for his long time friend to have revealed this to him so suddenly. He should have told him as soon as he got the command spells, why had he waited until now?

Shinji released his grip on Shirou's shirt and lightly pushed him away. Holding out his hand towards him, his expression changed.

"Then relinquish your spot, if you retire before summoning a Servant, the Grail will be forced to choose a new master to fill your spot." Shinji smirked, a subtle darkness within his eyes. In this moment they weren't friends, the magus's frustration and jealousy had overwhelmed him. "Give up, let me take your place. Wouldn't that be so much easier?"

"Shinji, I…" His logic, while borne out of his feelings of betrayal was sound. Shirou had been a nervous wreck as the war approached; it _would _be so much easier if he just let the actual magus take his place, but… "I'm sorry, that's not something I can do. I've already decided to see this through to the end."

"Yeah, I thought you might say that." Shinji turned away from his friend, his voice taking on a cold tone. "That's just like you isn't it? Can't quit something once you've started it, that's the Shirou way."

Without warning, Shinji turned around rapidly, throwing a quick jab at Shirou. His fist hardened with reinforcement magecraft struck with an inhuman force, sending the gang star to the dirt at their feet.

"The Grail didn't pick me… but that's normal, nothing has ever been handed to me easily." Standing over his fallen friend, Shinji's still raised fist shook with anger. The surge of emotions within him threatened to come unleashed, but the boy managed to retrain himself. "I don't need the Grail's approval, I'll find my own way to take it! I won't keep living in your shadow, you hear me?!"

The feeling of always being a step behind one close to you, Shirou understood it all too well. Ever since their friendship had begun, it was always Shirou who showed up to save Shinji. It came so naturally to him to try and help that he hadn't even considered he was doing something unwanted.

"So long, Shirou Yovanna," Shinji turned and began to walk away, leaving his friend lying on the ground. Glancing at his familiar, Koma, he could feel nothing but disdain for the thing. Even after all he went through; his intense training to learn his family craft… it still wasn't enough. The Grail was telling him clearly that he wasn't ready; he needed more power if he was going to achieve his goals.

Shirou crawled to his knees, not bothering to stand up right away. Staring at the ground he felt more powerless then he had in a long time, he couldn't do anything. His friend was hurting, it was clear even to him, but there was nothing he could do to help him.

Shirou clenched his fist and punched the ground below him. Letting his frustration flow out of him through the strike, he finally stood up. The sun had begun to set in the distance, casting a mellow orange glow over him.

This was bad, he hadn't expected things to turn out his way, but it couldn't have gone worse. If he wasn't careful not only would he lose a friend, but he could end up facing him in the war. His heart beat loudly in his chest at the thought; did he have the resolve to face his friend on the battlefield? Well, hopefully things wouldn't come to that.

Too distracted with the events of the day, he didn't notice the pair of eyes that had been watching him since the morning as he left the school grounds. His attention focused on the enemy in front of him, this transfer student Misaya Reiroukan had caused his honed instincts to develop a rather worrying blind spot.

"So, this kid _is_ a Master huh?" A deep male voice spoke out to no one in particular as they watched a certain blonde gang-star leave the school. "Looks like he hasn't summoned a Servant yet, it would be so easy to finish him right now… But I guess I should play along with her orders for now."

The mysterious man shrugged, his body disappearing as if he were nothing but an illusion.

* * *

The Holy Grail War was a battle royale between seven Masters, each using a summoned aspect of a heroic spirit in the form of a Servant. It was a grand ritual that had been put in place by her ancestors, so it was obvious she would become involved with it at some point. But still, Rin Tohsaka wanted nothing to do with it.

The ritual did nothing but spread destruction and misery, and was directly responsible for the deaths of her entire family. She detested the system and wanted nothing more but to see it dismantled, but even so the grail had chosen her as one of the seven. Was the grail under an obligation to give her command spells due to her bloodline's connection to it, or did the grail simply have some sense of irony in picking a girl whose wish is to end the war?

Either way, she only saw one logical course of action after she was picked. Join the war as a Master, defeat the other six, and wish for the total annihilation of the grail war system. She had been planning this since she was a child, but she hadn't expected the next war to begin so soon. The abrupt ending of the fourth war had caused an aberration in the system, and it had started up far too early.

But she couldn't afford to lose just because of that, she would give it her all and win. The first step was to summon the most powerful Servant class, Saber. At least, that had been the plan. Instead, she had ended up with exactly the class she didn't want, Archer. While it was one of the stronger classes in the war, it carried with it the rather annoying ability of independent action. This made it much harder to control said Servant, and if they were going to stick with her plans it would take that much more effort on her part.

"You do understand what the Holy Grail War is about don't you, _Master?_" The servant Archer, his arms crossed looked over towards her from his position on a large chair in her living room. Something about the way he said master when addressing her pissed her off, was he doing it on purpose? "I mean, I'll follow your orders, but you're really making things harder on yourself to go down this path…"

"I understand what I'm doing, Archer." Rin raised a western styled teacup to her lips, taking an elegant sip before placing it back down. "If you don't like it, find another Master. As long as we're a team however, those are the rules. If I wanted to murder the opposing teams I would have summoned Assassin."

"I got it, I got it, I won't target the magi and focus only on the Servants, Master_._" The man ran his tan hand through his white hair, which stood out against his otherwise youthful appearance. "But really, it's just my luck to be summoned by such a stubborn girl."

Ignoring her Servants complaining, the young head of the Tohsaka household stood up, brushing a lock of her brown hair from her face. Her Servant continued to grumble as she left the room, but he soon followed, entering spirit form behind her.

"Are you ready to tell me your true name yet, Archer?" pulling on her school uniform's jacket, she turned towards the door. Her Servant had claimed upon being summoned that he couldn't remember his true name, but she still found it hard to believe.

"Even if I did know, I have a feeling it wouldn't make much difference." Archer's nonchalant response was exactly what she had come to expect from him, even after only talking with him for a single day. "Why are you bothering to go to school anyways, shouldn't you focus on finding the other Masters?"

"Unlike you, my life doesn't revolve around this ritual, I can't just stop going to school." The door to her sizable mansion closed with a click behind her, and she slowly walked along the path leading out to the street. "Besides, this _is_ part of locating the other Masters."

"You suspect there are others in your school? Wouldn't that be a bit… _convenient?"_

"A few years ago I would have said the same, but it's pretty much guaranteed that there's at least one. After all, Shinji wouldn't let me forget how much better of a magus he's become since we first met."

The thought that Shinji, that slimy, awful excuse for a magus had managed to somehow awaken his supposedly dead circuits had been enough of a shock for her, but it didn't end there. He had become a magus that could compare to her, possibly even best her in some areas of his knowledge, it was humiliating. But it made things easier for her, he was also from one of the three founding families, so she was sure he would be picked.

The murmuring of the crowd of students soon drowned out any attempt of communication with her Servant, and she couldn't exactly talk to herself either. The rest of her conversation with him would have to wait for later, and the young magus quickly hurried to school.

Rin was suddenly stuck with an unusual sense of anxiety, sure anyone in the crowd could be an enemy at this point, but she wasn't one to concern herself with those kinds of thoughts. The cause became apparent when a young man passed by her, moving even faster than she was towards the school. His distinctive slicked back blonde hair clearly marked who he was, but even without it she would be able to recognize him.

Shirou Giovanna had a bizarre atmosphere about him, almost like he wasn't human. After her first encounter with him she had largely avoided the boy for this reason, fearing he was some kind of demon, but even that didn't seem right. No, his aura was somewhat familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place her finger on it.

Before she realized it, she was following him through the halls of the school. They were in different classes, so her actions couldn't even be passed off as coincidental. But somehow, she thought following him felt natural, a hazy memory crossing her mind. Her surroundings changed, and she was lost in a forgotten event from nearly ten years prior.

A flash of silver aimed towards her, blocked by a man in an outrageous purple suit. This was undeniably a memory from the past Holy Grail War, and those larger than life figures had to be Servants. The man in the purple suit had defended her, his golden blonde hair swaying nobly in the wind. Rin remembered what she had thought that night, a feeling lost to time. She had thought quite clearly then, that he was the perfect image of a 'hero'.

Rin shook her head, forcing the memory away, why was she thinking about that now? What relevance at all did it have to her inadvertent stalking of Shirou Giovanna? Well, from behind at least Shirou sort of looked like that Servant, they had similar hair colors but that was about it.

Shirou stopped sharply in the hall, almost as if acting out of instinct. He began to turn around, and Rin quickly dashed behind a corner, had he realized she was following him? Even so, the aura he had put out when he stopped had made her heart skip a beat. In that second the only thing she could feel from him was pure, unrestrained bloodlust.

"Is he one of the seven? that seems too convenient…" Inadvertently parroting her Servant's words, Rin pondered the implications of his reaction while mumbling under her breath.

Rin hadn't realized it yet, but she had completely forgotten about the far more obvious threat of Shinji Matou, her thoughts now firmly aimed towards Shirou instead. All throughout her morning classes she mulled over her course of action until the lunch break. As soon as class let out she rushed to the rooftop, which was predictably vacant.

"Archer." She called out to the empty air, the red clad form of her Servant soon appearing to her call.

"Is this about that blonde kid you followed earlier?" Archer crossed his arms and leaned against the fence surrounding the roof. His guess was quite accurate; did he have some form of mind reading capability?

"Yeah, it's probably nothing, but he's too suspicious to ignore." Turning around, Rin's fingers closed around a link in the metal fence, her gaze listlessly aimed towards the town. "Follow him in spirit form and report back if he does anything strange, but _don't_ kill him."

"Still going with the pacifist plan eh, Master?" The white haired Servant sighed, an action she chose to ignore.

"It's not pacifism, I'm prepared to fight, it's just…" A pain filled her chest, her words catching in her throat. Now wasn't the time to lose focus, hadn't she already decided how to handle the war years ago? "I just don't want to kill anyone if it isn't necessary. If he is a master, I'll deal with him as best I can."

Nodding, Archer faded back into spirit form. No longer able to feel his presence behind her, Rin felt unexpectedly exposed, like she had just taken off a protective set of armor. Sitting down on the ground, she pulled her lunch out of her bag and began to eat in silence.

Was she really doing the right thing? Letting the war continue, acting as a Master in it, wasn't this exactly what she didn't want to happen? But she didn't see a way out of it, the war was already starting. Now all she could do was minimize the damage it caused, prevent another disaster like the previous war.

Rin clenched her fists tightly, a single tear rolling down her face. The pain she suffered at the hands of the previous war... she couldn't let that happen again. If there was someone, anyone in her sight that she could protect, she would do it. Did that mean she fancied herself a hero? Hardly, it was merely her duty to live up to her noble lineage.

But the image of that man, that Servant, never left her mind. She couldn't forget his strong posture, which was unyielding against the enemy. She couldn't forget his cold eyes that hid his emotions, but still managed to feel kind when they looked down upon her. The face of the student she had been tailing before, Shirou Giovanna, passed through her thoughts once more, were they really that similar?

The rest of the school day passed Rin in a flash, her mind lost in a fog of thought. Returning to the roof before she went home, she found her servant waiting for her. Explaining what he had seen, she almost couldn't believe his words.

"S-Shirou is a Master… but Shinji wasn't chosen?" Her eyes widened in surprise at Archer's report, that couldn't be right. "Shinji is a magus that, as much as I hate to admit is on par with myself, and of the founding families! For him to not be picked… does that mean that old worm is taking part himself?"

"Isn't this better for you, Master?" An arrogant smile crossed Archer's face, was he looking down on her? "Now you don't have to fight acquaintance. It should be far easier to defeat someone you don't really know, yes? And from the sound of things he hasn't summoned his Servant yet, we can take him out of the running in a flash."

Rin gritted her teeth, was her Servant trying to antagonize her? Unless he was exceedingly dull witted, which he didn't seem to be, it should be impossible for him to be unaware of her intentions. But yet, he continued to say the same things.

"Archer… How many times do I have to tell you?" Rin glared at her Servant, who merely shrugged in response. "I won't target other Masters, even if it would cost me my own life."

"Now who said anything about killing the poor kid, aren't you jumping a bit ahead of yourself?" The tall Servant crossed his red clad arms over his chest, leaning back against the roof fence. "It didn't really seem like he wanted to be a Master any more than you do, so if you talk to him now you might be able to talk him into retiring prematurely."

"Huh, that's surprisingly levelheaded of you, Archer." Rin placed her hand on her chin, absorbing what he had just suggested. "Even if he retires now, a seventh master will have to appear, though I would rather it not be a fellow student… alright! Let's try that, good idea."

Rin had a vague understanding of where he lived; she supposed everyone at school did. It wasn't easy to be low profile when you're related to the biggest criminal organization in the city, after all. If she hurried she could probably catch him on his way home, so without hesitation she rushed to the stairs and quickly exited the school.

Archer moved to follow, but he stopped mid step, his expression flashing surprise.

"Shirou… could he be?" Archer shook his head at the idea, re-entering spirit form. "Nah, I shouldn't jump to wild conclusions."

* * *

The sun began to set as he approached his destination. The blue haired boy, the Magus Shinji Matou, walked towards the docks downtown. He kept watch around him, as if he expected to be ambushed at any moment. When he had confirmed he was indeed alone, he pushed open the door of an old warehouse by the harbor, entering it as quickly as he could.

Inside there was exactly what you would expect, endless walls of wooden crates lined the building like a maze. His pace speeding up with each step, Shinji Matou made his way to the center of the building. He was no longer alone, the atmosphere shifting at the arrival of a new presence.

Jumping down in front of him, they landed like a wild animal on all fours. Standing up to full height, they shook their wild orange hair from their face and hopped onto a nearby box. The new guest looked like a normal young girl, but the aura she gave off was anything but ordinary. Even now he found himself getting nervous around her; just standing by her made his breath turn shallow.

"Shinji, ya still scared of me?" The girl laughed, her open mouth flashing a set of unusually sharp canine teeth. "It's not like I'm gonna eat ya or anything, you know?"

"I'm not scared; your energy is simply… unnerving." Shinji turned away from her, looking off into the distance aimlessly. "Is he here?"

The girl didn't have time to respond before a third figure made their presence known. Shinji's entire body stiffened up, worse then the aura of the girl, this man terrified him for the exact opposite reason. No matter how much he tried, Shinji could never detect him; it was like he didn't exist. But yet, when he was around him, he could feel _something_, something extremely off with him. He cursed his misfortune that led him to this moment, surrounded on both sides by monsters. But it was the price he paid, if he wanted power, he had to sacrifice everything, and this was part of the process.

The third member of the group remained in the shadows, which Shinji didn't mind one bit. The less he had to look at him the better. A shiver shot down his spine as he slowly turned to face the man, still veiled in darkness.

"Report your status," The cold voice that greeted him was expectedly distant. He had no interest in actually aiding Shinji, merely using him as he saw fit. That was how it had been ever since he gained a second chance at being a magus, and nothing would change it now.

"I-It's done; I've distanced myself from Shirou." His entire body was shaking as he spoke; his nerves just wouldn't calm down. "I still don't understand why you of all people asked this of me, but I'll follow your commands."

"Good, keep your distance for now, but let him think there's a chance of reconciliation." The figure disappeared into the darkness without another word, leaving Shinji with the mysterious girl.

"What should I do, Boss?" She cocked her head to the side, almost like a dog looking up at their master. "I've been itching for some action, give me a good order!"

The girl jumped off her makeshift chair, raising her hands into fists. Throwing a few shadow punches, she looked eagerly towards Shinji.

"Since I can't play the part of Shirou's friend any longer, I can't keep track of _their _movements easily anymore." Shinji crossed his arms, letting out a long sigh. He knew it was all a part of the plan, his quest that would allow him to avenge _her_. But this current step was making things difficult on him, everything suddenly seemed far more complicated than it needed to be.

"So… you want me to go spy on 'em?" The girl scratched her head, further messing up her already untamed mane of hair. "I guess I can do that, you're the boss."

"Infiltrate Passione, but be careful." Shinji steeled his resolve and approached the girl, nervously placing his hand on her shoulder. "They're no normal gang, if they suspect you for a second, pull out of there."

Shinji turned and walked towards the door, not looking back until he reached it. His hand closed around the handle and with a short glance behind him, he left, speaking one final time.

"After all, I can't do this without you."

* * *

Rin's heart beat loudly in her ears as she ran down the street, her legs carrying her as fast as was possible. Finally, she caught a glimpse of blonde hair in the distance and called out to him.

"Shirou Giovanna!" Through her rough breathing her voice barely managed to reach him, but he stopped in his tracks.

His school bag through casually over his shoulder in one hand, Shirou turned to face her. From his expression it was clear he was bewildered, and she could understand why. This was possibly the first time she had actually spoken directly to him since the first day of school, seeing as she had avoided him quite effectively until now.

"Huh?" Shirou tilted his head in confusion, staring blankly towards her. "This is quite a rare event; is Rin Tohsaka talking to _me?_"

"I… I need to talk to you about something, it's important." Rin averted her eyes from his intense stare, a red tinge appearing on her cheeks. Wait, what exactly was she feeling embarrassed about here?!

"If it's not urgent do you think it could wait, Rin?" His blunt response caught her off guard, everyone tended to act reserved around her. "I've got somewhere I need to be, can we talk tomorrow?"

"Eh? Well, I guess that's alright…" She hadn't planned for this reaction, what should she be saying here? "Then, can we meet after school tomorrow, on the roof?"

"Sure, that works." Shirou nodded and turned away from her. Waving his free hand casually he walked away without looking back. "See you then."

And so Rin was left standing alone in the street, unsure how to continue. At the very least she had set up a meeting with him, but something was bothering her about the exchange. The entire walk back to her estate she continued to stew over what happened. Finally, upon entering her foyer, something clicked in her mind.

"Did he just blow me off?!" Her eyes widened in shock, just who the hell did he think he was? Rin was no narcissist, but she _was_ aware of her status as one of the more desirable girls in her grade, most guys would kill for a chance to talk to her, but he ignored her so easily!

"It's possible he already suspects you of being a Master, it's not _necessarily_ that he finds you unattractive."

Ignoring the snide remark from her Servant, the irritated young magus marched into the living room, wasting no time in flopping face first into a large couch.

"Master, were we not going to patrol the city tonight in search of other masters?" Archer materialized in a chair across from her position, his legs crossed in a relaxed posture. "Well, I'm fine either way, but I thought you were in a hurry to finish things."

"I'm too tired for that now, next time." Rin sighed, pulling a pillow tightly against her chest. "Archer, go guard the perimeter. I doubt anything can slip past the bounded fields, but you can't be too careful."

"Yeah yeah, I'll go be your watchdog then." Archer hopped to his feet, stretching his arms out in front of him, fingers interlocked. "Wouldn't want my precious master's beauty sleep to be disturbed, would I?"

As he left the room Rin suddenly wished he had summoned a Servant who was mute, perhaps she should have tried for berserker. At one point she had considered using a command spell to force him to be less snarky, but she had decided it was a waste at the last second.

After an uneasy night and an even less calming day however, Rin arrived at the moment she had been anticipating. Her hesitation increased with every step as she climbed the stairs, what if he wouldn't listen to her? What if in the time since yesterday he had summoned his Servant, and was now her enemy?

When she arrived on the roof of the school building the only thing that greeted her was the orange glow of the setting sun, it looked like he hadn't arrived yet. Sitting down, Rin closed her eyes and began to wait. After around an hour she started to wonder if he wasn't going to show up, when she heard footsteps approaching her. Finally, it was now or never. Opening her eyes, she stood up, dusting off her skirt with one hand as she turned towards the sound of the new presence.

But what she saw wasn't Shirou Giovanna. Her body force at the sight of the figure before her. She understood exactly what kind of situation she was in, for she recognized the person standing in front of her.

Wearing a black business suit with a red tie, the person before her was obviously not a student. Her short magenta hair combined with her serious expression and poise was enough to tell Rin who she faced.

"Bazett Fraga McRemitz…" Rin's instincts told her to run away, but her legs didn't respond to her commands. "The association certainly picked a monster to represent them this time."

Well known within the Magus Association, the Fraga clan was already infamous enough for its strength, but she went well beyond even that. Having worked as an Enforcer for the Association, her magecraft was well tuned to combat, particularly against other Magi. She was the perfect choice of Master in the war; she stood a good chance of being capable of defeating every opposing Master while her Servant held off her enemy's own.

The older woman reached into her suit pocket, retrieving a pair of black gloves with ancient runes inscribed on their backs. Pulling them on in silence, Bazett's eyes finally locked on Rin's.

"Rin Tohsaka, it was quite foolish of you to let your guard down in public." The Enforcer took up a hand to hand stance, the magical energy around her shifting as the spells in her gloves activated. "I apologize, but it seems I must eliminate you here. After all, that is the nature of this ritual, is it not?"

"You can go ahead and try, but I won't make it easy!" Rin boasted, but her word felt empty. If she didn't even believe it there was no chance it had an impact on her opponent.

Bazett stepped in, moving so fast as to almost disappear from Rin's view. Her body, enhanced with rune magecraft, moved unlike any human should be able to. Her fist drew back, a strike that would easily blow away the young Tohsaka.

Pouring her own magical energy through her body, Rin crossed her arms in the hopes of blocking at least part of the attack. Bazett's punch hit her with unbelievable power, shooting out like a bullet. A force not dissimilar to being struck by a speeding car smashed into her guard. Had Rin not reinforced her body it would have instantly shattered her arms.

Ever after blocking the attack however, the strength of it forced her back, her body only stopping when it hit the fence around the roof. Rin clenched her teeth through the pain, forcing herself to remain standing. She had heard rumors of Bazett's strength, but the truth was almost more absurd than she could have imagined. She was completely outclassed, in both magecraft and martial prowess.

But she wouldn't give up; there was still a chance for escape. Ending her first encounter of the war in retreat was humiliating, but she had no choice. Reinforcing her legs, she made a dash towards the left. Bazett easily caught up to her, but it was all part of her plan.

The Magic Crest that covered her left arm lit up as she flowed her mana through it. The accumulation of her family's magecraft, it possessed many powerful spells that could be cast by simply running power through the appropriate section of the crest. The spell she chose was an old Germanic curse, Gandr. Normally only a spell to inflict illness, the Tohsaka Gandr had developed into a form that blasted things apart with physical force akin to a handgun.

Firing a barrage of Gandr shots towards Bazett, Rin swiftly changed direction and ran towards the stairs. She didn't expect any of her shots to do any damage, but if they could just slow her down for a moment…

"..!" Rin instinctively leapt to the side, avoiding some unknown danger. A crimson arc cut a swath through the air where she had just been, slicing a chunk out of the concrete roof.

"Not a bad dodge, for a magus." The source of the attack was a red spear, held lazily in the hands of a tall and muscular man. He was clad in a blue bodysuit that looked completely out of place in the modern era, and the weapon in his possession was a good indication of why that was.

"L-Lancer…"

"That's right, girl. I am the Servant of the spear, Lancer." The man smirked, throwing his head back. His long blue hair that was tied back in a ponytail fluttered against the night's breeze. "I'm not really interested in fighting you; it would be over too quick. So why don't you call out _your_ Servant already, little girl?"

Somehow, he was even more condescending than her Servant, was that a common trait of Heroic Spirits? But as much as she didn't want to admit it, she couldn't win without him. Hell, she couldn't even defeat Bazett, let alone a Servant.

A rain of light interrupted her standoff against the enemy team. Each source of light was an arrow fired from above, which an obvious origin. Lancer leapt back, parrying a few arrows with a twill of his crimson spear.

"Rin, get out of here!" Landing in between herself and lancer, the servant in red appeared, a black bow in his hands. "I'm not sure if I can fight two enemies at once, but I'll give it a shot."

Rin nodded and prepared to escape, when the unthinkable happened. Rushing past her own servant, Bazett Fraga McRemitz charged Archer. Only a madman would attempt to fight a servant themselves, but this woman had done so without any hesitation. But what followed was even more unbelievable.

Rin stood in shock as the human magus before he blew away a Servant in one punch, the impact sending a shockwave across the roof. Archer was slammed through the roof fencing, tearing it straight from its mounting. Just what kind of absurd monster had the association called in as their Master?

But there was no chance that had actually killed him, and the fact she still felt her connection with him confirmed it. Seeing a chance open up before he, Rin leapt off the roof without hesitation, using the broken fence as a new route of escape.

"Archer, you better catch me!"

A flash of red from below quickly caught up with her, and the strong arms of her Servant carried her safely to the ground. Rin stared at him, a scowl on her face and her arms crossed.

"Are you trying to make me look bad? Letting that women get an attack in, she's not even a Heroic Spirit!"

"I was only momentarily caught off guard, it won't happen again." He turned back to face the school, his expression hardening. "But we have more to worry about now, don't you think?"

Archer's bow disappeared from his hands, and in its place appeared a pair of curved Chinese short swords, one white and one black. Rin tried not to let her surprise show on her face, was he going to engage them in close combat? It wasn't really like his Class to fight hand to hand, had he gone mad?

"Archer, are you sure about this?" Rin reached out towards his back, but her hand hesitated.

"Leave Lancer to me," He started towards them, his swords held loosely at his side. "Don't get beaten too quickly, I can't be in two places at once."

The weight of his words sank as soon as he disappeared from view, reappearing next to the approaching Lancer. The fight quickly turned into something normal humans couldn't interfere in, not even Bazett would be able to do anything. This meant that Rin was left to deal with the second half of the tag team. She reached into her pocket and clutched the magical gemstones within it, would they be enough against such an experienced foe?

"Under different circumstances I would commend you for surviving this long, but you're only prolonging your suffering." Bazett slowly walked towards her, how had she gotten to the ground floor already? No way, had she jumped off as well?!

Raising up her left hand, Rin unleashed a barrage of Gandr shots, already preparing to run away. Fighting evenly with Bazett was quite frankly one of the more suicidal things she could think of at the moment.

The Enforcer didn't flinch at her assault, instead diving straight through the blast. A rune-enhanced glove slammed into Rin's stomach before she had a chance to react, sending her flying across the school grounds.

Not giving Rin a second to recover Bazett rushed in again, aiming a kick at the downed Tohsaka. Her fingers closed around one of her jewels, a mystic code that stored her excess magical energy. Each gem was a priceless piece of equipment with several months' worth of mana within it, but she had no choice.

Throwing the ruby in her hand, she unleashed the magic stored within it. It was a crude use of the gem that could barely be considered a spell, but it allowed her to create a powerful effect with no preparation time.

The explosive burst of mana threw the Enforcer back, but it wasn't enough to stop the berserker of a woman that Rin currently faced. Even with all of her training she could barely keep up, they were in totally different leagues. But Archer sounded like he had a plan, so she would hold out until then.

It was insane, she realized immediately, but it was because of how terrible an idea it was that just might work. Reinforcing her body as much as she could, Rin launched into an all out sprint towards her opponent. The Tohsaka family philosophy had always been to train both the mind and the body, so she was no slouch when it came to martial arts. But there was no way she could stand up against Bazett, what was she thinking?

Rin threw the best punch she could muster, but the far more experienced fighter easily ducked under it, hitting her with a swift uppercut. Rin crossed her arms over her face, barely blocking a powerful straight punch from Bazett. Each of the veteran Enforcer's hits was inhumanly destructive, even with her magecraft Rin couldn't afford to keep blocking them.

"There's still time to back down, Rin Tohsaka," Bazett calmly addressed her as if they weren't in the middle of a heated battle. "I don't wish to cause unnecessary harm, but if you insist on continuing this struggle I can't promise your safety."

"Sorry, but as the overseer of this city and one of the founding families… I can't give up when it's just begun."

"Very well, try not to hold the results against me, then." Bazett's fits clenched tighter, and her expression seemed to harden. Having evidently been holding back before, the Enforcer finally became serious.

Rin was hit with three near simultaneous blows, none of which she could even see, and each even more powerful than before. Her vision went completely white at least two times before she found herself leaning against the wall of a school storage shed.

She coughed, a not insignificant quantity of blood spilling from her mouth. She tried to stand, but quickly fell to one knee. If she didn't get up she would die, but her body wasn't listening to her. Several of her ribs were cracked for sure, and her left arm was dangling uselessly at her side.

Was this the end, was she really destined to fail right out of the gate? She had prepared for almost her entire life, and for what? She couldn't win against such a strong enemy; she was foolish to even try. In the distance she could still hear the sound of her Servant locked in battle, if she called him with a command spell perhaps they could still escape.

But her body was frozen; she couldn't even call for help at this point. Was it fear of her impending fate? Or shock at her failure? She didn't have time to contemplate it before the sound of footsteps notified her of the oncoming end. This was it; there was no way out of it now. Even if she released the power of all of her jewels in a suicide attack it probably wouldn't kill that woman, she was too heavily enchanted.

"Merda, I'm a bit late and this is the result?" an unexpected voice cut into her thoughts, his bizarre use of Italian as gratuitous as always. She must be more hurt than she thought, she was hallucinating now.

But wait, why had Bazett stopped moving? Rin opened her eyes, seeing something she would never have imagined. Wearing casual clothing instead of his school uniform, the blonde boy she had intended to meet with this night stood in front of her, his hands casually in the pockets of his bright purple jacket.

"S-Shirou?" She stuttered, unsure of what he was doing there. In the moment she had forgotten even inviting him here in the first place, so his appearance seemed utterly bizarre. "What are you… Y-You have to get out of here, it's too dangerous!"

As if he hadn't heard her, the young man turned his back to her and faced the Enforcer, Bazett. He should have just witnessed what she was capable of, how was he acting so calm?

"Another magus? No, you're something… different." Bazett held up her fists once more, but remained cautiously apart from him. "Are you her ally?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it that," Shirou stepped forward, closing the gap between them. "But I have some unfinished business with her, so could you back off your attack for the time being?"

"I'm afraid I cannot, I must complete my mission." Bazett replied coldly, her attention completely on her new opponent.

"Well, if you insist." Shirou removed his right hand from his pocket, holding it out to his side. With a burst of blue flames,a Chinese straight sword appeared in his hand. "That makes you my _enemy._"


	15. Chapter 14: Servent

In the dim atmosphere of approaching dusk, a battle that defied common sense was fought between forces not of this world. The combatants moved with an inhuman grace, each twitch of their bodies carrying with it a legendary strength. Steel clashed in a torrent of blue and red, the two figures assault so furiously exchanging blows that they were nothing but blurred afterimages.

But this was all merely a backdrop, a set dressing for the battle Shirou Giovanna currently faced. He stood against a woman in her twenties, who clearly possessed superhuman abilities. She was nothing compared to the Heroic Spirits doing battle besides them, but he couldn't underestimate her nonetheless.

He gripped the handle of a Chinese straight sword in his extended hand, his palms already sweaty from the nerves he was under. The Jian was wholly unremarkable, it was nothing but a completely ordinary sword. It carried with it nothing in the way of supernatural abilities or anything that could be considered a trump card, but that suited him just fine.

Shirou's coiled legs sprung into motion, propelling him unexpected force towards his female opponent. With the precision of a practiced martial artist he blade flashed in the gap between them, a skilled attack that many would be hard pressed to avoid. He would use everything, every once of his effort, all those years spent under the grueling teachings of the Boss would be put to the test this night.

Bazett Fraga McRemitz did not flinch at his charge; instead she chose to step into his attack. Unwavering, she counted with a backhanded blow, her magically reinforced fist shattering his sword as if it was a child's toy. Showing no concern from his attack, the Enforcer's upper body twisted as she pulled back her right hand, preparing to throw one of her killer straight punches.

Behind the two combatants, Rin Tohsaka's body went numb with terror. What was that idiot thinking, did he really think he could win against Bazett? There was no way he could hope to keep up with her, and she sensed no magic emanating from him. Without even reinforcing his body he chose to fight that monster of a woman, where taking a single punch could take his life.

But he was fearless against her, as if the thought of losing hadn't even crossed his mind. Just what sort of life had he been living to develop such an iron will? He hadn't even reacted when his sword had been destroyed, wasn't he worried about being disarmed?

But it was still hopeless; she couldn't see any way he could win. The punch aimed at his face would easily blow his head clean off, and she could imagine the horrific result already. Squeezing her eyes shut, Rin anticipated the sound of the impact, but it never came. Perplexed, she opened one eye, a wave of shock rushing through her mind.

Almost as if time had slowed, she watched Bazett's fist fly past Shirou's face, just inches from hitting her mark square on. Shirou's legs tensed and he kicked off of the ground, flying towards his opponent at remarkable speed.

While he looked like a machine that felt no fear to Rin, the truth was far from it. Her attack was terrifyingly fast, it had taken everything he had to dodge it. But he saw a light in the darkness of this hopeless situation, he _had_ dodged it.

"That…" Shirou's feet dug into the ground, bracing his body to throw a counter punch. "Wasn't even half as fast as what the Boss can throw!"

His fist sped towards Bazett, aimed in a low body blow meant to knock the breath out of her. With her incredible speed however, she jumped back, his punch falling short by a good arm's length.

"..!" Bazett had only just landed from her backstep when something managed to catch her off guard. From Shirou's fist extended another arm, a spectral limb clad in silver armor. Unable to react in time, the mysterious attack landed a clean hit against her solar plexus.

Emerging from within him, the entire silver figure floated next to him, like a guardian spirit standing behind him. Its body was made from swords, with a broken shield on its chest and a blazing blue fire within its body. It was no golem or construct, but it also wasn't a demon or wraith, Rin could tell that just from looking at it.

"W-What the hell is that? Just what are you, Shirou Giovanna?" Rin gasped from the sidelines, her body still unable to move. She had only just accepted that Shirou had managed to evade one of Bazett's attacks, and now this?

Panting heavily, the female Enforcer staggered back to her feet, her magenta hair falling disheveled over her eyes. Shirou hadn't expected that attack to finish things, but it was still disappointing how little it had done.

"Conditions… cleared." Bazett's fingers twitched, a surge of magical energy swirling around her. And then, she disappeared from view.

The next thing that Rin saw was Shirou being blown across the school soccer field. The attack had been so fast her eyes couldn't even follow it, but she could guess what happened. Bazett had been holding back before, even that absurd level of strength she had shown… it was just a fragment of her total power!

Standing with her arm outstretched where Shirou had been moments before, Bazett paused. At her feet lay a shattered European broadsword, which Rin was sure hadn't been there before. Come to think of it, how had Shirou pulled out that first sword? She had assumed it was a spell at first, but she felt no shift in the air's mana, what on earth was he?

"An interesting trick, but it won't work again." A drop of blood fell from Bazett's fist, trickling from the inside of her reinforced glove. Lowering her hand at last, she strode across the sports field, towards the prone body of the Gang-Star.

Unsteadily climbing to his feet, the Silver figure reappeared behind him. This strange creature which his opponent had no knowledge of, was his Stand 'Unlimited Blade Works," had this been a less serious fight he may have even explained this to her. But there was no time for such pleasantries, not while his enemy still stood in his way.

His Stand reached within itself, drawing out a blade from the forge inside of it. As soon as the blade was free the silver construct launched the sword as a deadly arrow, its speed easily nearing that of a bullet.

Bazett dashed straight at him, obliterating the sword with a single quick jab. His Stand threw more swords, each time shortening the interval between them. Each and every blade was utterly destroyed by the Enforcer's relentless charge, and the gap between them was almost completely gone now.

Shirou's Stand reached at its chest, pulling apart the cracked heater shield that made up its body. The blue fire inside of it surged, glowing brighter than before. Dozens, no, hundreds of short swords and daggers appeared within the flames.

Shirou thrust his left arm out over his stand's shoulder, pointing towards the oncoming woman. At his command, the arsenal of weapons was fired from within his Stand like a machinegun. There were far too many weapons for her to destroy them all, and they targeted a wide enough range that evasion should be impossible.

Bazett ducked into a low sprint, covering her face with her arms. With no hesitation she ran through the hailstorm of knives, risking everything on her charge. Some blades shattered against her reinforced clothing, others bounced off harmlessly. But even so, not every blade was dulled against her armor, at least five knives sunk into gaps in her magic, but she ignored the pain.

"Hey, you're kidding right?!" She was right in front of him now, to his complete shock. And he thought some of the things he tried were reckless, that was just downright suicidal!

Her fist, reinforced with runic magic, slammed into his Stand's face, knocking it against the ground. The damage was mirrored onto him, and he found himself face first in the dirt. Thankfully, his stand was sturdier than his actual body, or that attack might have ended things.

"Shared damage, I see." Bazett calmly approached the figure made of blades, throwing three quick jabs against its body.

Shirou gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain radiating throughout his body, and forced himself to his feet. Blood ran down his forehead, obscuring his vision on his left side. His Stand moved to attack, unleashing a roar like the sound of metal blades clashing together.

"Kirikirikirikiri!" The Stand's fists exploded into a heavy barrage of punches, each one punctuated by its metallic cry. Bazett's guard held firm against it, her reinforced body absorbing every blow.

The Enforcer ducked between his Stand's punches, moving to counter it. Despite her injuries, the ferocity of her attacks had not degraded at all. Even with at least five daggers embedded in her body she continued her assault as if nothing was wrong. Against such endurance… was there even anything he could do?

Bazett's right landed hard against his Stand's lower body, an audible crack echoing through the school grounds. Shirou clutched at his body, a wave of nausea running through him. He wasn't sure what had just broken, but it was nothing he couldn't endure. However, the hit caused his willpower to waver, and in that split second his Stand had lost its form.

Shirou barely had time to register how bad this situation was before she moved in. The only reason her hits hadn't done critical damage already was because she had struck his Stand, If he took one of those head on the end result wouldn't be as pretty.

Bazett's fist soared through the air with unbelievable force, nearing the power that Giorno could throw around with his Stand. Shirou didn't have time to evade her, and he doubted he had the skill to do so anyways. His only hope was to block it, but it was a longshot. Crossing his arms in front of him, he summoned two blades to act as shields.

Smashing through his swords with a powerful uppercut, Bazett blew away his defense in a single hit. He was completely open with no way to recover in time, was this the end of the line?

If only his Stand was more powerful, maybe he could have won. No, it wasn't as simple as that; pure strength wasn't all there was to it. Had he been gifted with a Stand like Giorno's, which existed within his own body… that would have been a different story.

The humanoid type Stand of his was powerful enough to defeat this enemy, but he wasn't as skilled in fighting with it as he was his own body. That small weakness was all it took for this woman to break through his defenses like they were nothing.

Bazett thrust her left hand forward, but not as a punch. Instead, her fingers closed around Shirou's neck. He soon found himself lifted off the ground, unable to breathe. He attempted to summon his Stand, but his power failed him. He understood why, all Stands had a shared weakness, breath. Without oxygen pumping through his body, he couldn't draw out his power no matter how much he tried!

"I hadn't anticipated a foe of your caliber, seems like I miscalculated." Emotionlessly, Bazett's eyes locked on his. He couldn't feel any emotion from them, as if killing him was the same as swatting an annoying fly.

"_Ausbruchen!"_

Just as he had given up hope, an intense flash of white filled his vision, blinding him. Falling to his knees, Shirou had been removed from Bazett's hold by some unknown means. Blinking a few times, his vision returned. Instead of the Enforcer he had labeled his enemy standing before him, there was a girl his age, wearing a tattered and dirty school uniform.

It was Rin Tohsaka, the same person who he had come to school this late to meet with, and who he had stepped in to save. With her left arm hanging loose at her side and the other pressed against her ribs, she looked like she was barely standing.

Shirou staggered back to his feet on unsteady legs, trying desperately to calm his ragged breathing. He took stock of the situation, his eyes darting all around. The sounds of the two Servants doing battle continued some ways from them, seemed like that was still going strong. And Rin was… well, she was obviously a Master. That made them enemies, but protecting her this time was fine, right? After all, he hadn't actually summoned a Servant yet.

"That explosion, that was you huh?" His eyes fell to the downed form of his opponent, who had been blown a decent distance by Rin's spell. "Not bad, hit her with another one of those and we should be safe."

"Sorry, I can't do that again…" Rin's right hand reached up and touched the ruby pendant around her neck, a pained look on her face. "I used up all the gems I brought with me, that was my last shot."

"Fine, I'll finish her then." Shirou's normally cheerful voice fell cold, his entire body stiffening up. His Stand rematerialized behind him, holding a long straight sword.

Rin's body froze at his words, how could he say something so easily? What sort of life had he been living that he could face down this woman without fear, and talk of killing her so casually. Rin had only been telling a half truth before; she could use her pendent, her last gem, to cast that spell once more.

But she didn't want to kill her opponent, the thought terrified her. If she started slaying the other Masters… then she was just another part of the problem, she wouldn't let this war claim any more victims!

"Shirou, wait!" She reached out her hand towards him, but the young Gang-Star was no longer listening. Her voice couldn't reach him, not when he had steeled himself to much.

Without hesitation, Shirou's Stand launched the sword like a cannon, the deadly blade aimed at the defenseless Bazett. But the sword never reached it's mark, instead clashing against a different metal blade. A crimson arc sliced through the sword, ending its flight prematurely.

"L-Lancer?" Rin took a step back, fear welling up within her. If Lancer was here, then had his battle ended? "Ar… cher, Archer!"

But the Servant didn't respond to her voice, no matter how much she tried. Her connection was still active, so he hadn't died, but if he could no longer fight…

Lancer knelt down beside his master, who seemed to have lost consciousness. His expression turned sour, and he stood back up, glaring at the two teenagers. His rage was powerful enough to be felt, like a pure aura of killing intent. A hero from the past, a legend, was aiming his anger at them, and Rin couldn't see any escape.

"Don't worry, Rin." Shirou smirked, cracking his knuckles as he returned Lancer's glare. "I still have a plan."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing, was he insane or just an idiot? There was no way they stood a chance against a Servant on their own, what kind of plan did he expect to use here?

"T-This better be good, Shirou, Archer won't answer me." Rin was near completely panicking, and it felt as though her heart would burst out of her chest. "What's this plan of yours?"

"It's very simple," Shirou's muscles tensed up, was he going to charge in? "We get the hell outta' here!"

Launching into a full sprint, Shirou dashed towards the school entrance, totally ignoring the enemy in front of him. Like a pro athlete, his form was impeccable, if he was up against a human opponent he had a good chance of outrunning them.

"Huh?!" Rin stood in place, unable to comprehend what he was doing. He couldn't think he could escape, and did he really just leave her behind? "Y-You idiot, what will that accomplish!"

The Servant of the spear, Lancer, disappeared in a blur of motion. Rin's eyes couldn't track him, but she had a good idea of where he was headed. It was happening again, everyone who involved themselves with her suffered a horrific fate at the hands of the Holy Grail War.

"Face your end like a man, you little pest!" Lancer slid to a stop in front of Shirou, cutting off his retreat. "My master might be a bit reckless, but I'm still gonna make you pay for hurting her, I hope you understand!"

Shirou's eyes raced around his surroundings, desperately searching for an escape route. When they fell on Rin, still standing where he had left her however, his eye began to twitch.

"What are you doing, why are you still here?!"

"Eh?" the meaning of his words didn't sink in for a moment, leaving her more confused than before. Had he run away to draw Lancer's attention? Why, why would he go to such lengths to save her? She was an enemy Master!

"Heh, sacrificing yourself to save the girl? How _noble!" _Lancer lunged forward, his spear thrust towards the defenseless body of Shirou Giovanna. Even if he had wanted to avoid it, it was well beyond his capabilities. He was worn out, and even in peak condition he was still against a Servant.

But the spear didn't pierce his body, at the last second Lancer pulled back. Embedded deep in the ground was a black spear, bearing a vague resemblance to an arrow. It was followed by a rain of more of these 'arrows' each flying with deadly accuracy, forcing Lancer back.

"We're retreating, Rin!" Landing beside the young magus, Archer scooped her up with his left arm. She blushed heavily at the action, but the Servant ignored it. "Sorry I'm late, seems I was knocked unconscious for a bit."

"Idiot, you had me worried for nothing, don't think such a lame apology will fix things!"

The black arrows that littered the ground began to shake, suddenly shooting up into the air. They flew with unnatural power, homing in on Lancer with extreme precision. Shirou looked back towards Rin, and with a nod dashed out of the school grounds.

Archer soon followed, leaping over the wall of the gates, and running behind Shirou. They escaped as a group for a time, until it seemed as though Lancer wasn't following them.

"I owe you one, don't die until I've repaid the debt, got it?" Shirou and Rin's destinations were in opposite directions, so they decided to split up here. The man he was addressing, Archer, nodded silently in response before carrying the injured Rin the other way down the street.

The adrenaline from the fight subsiding, Shirou suddenly found himself in excruciating pain. He felt like he had been hit by a truck, even parts of his body that weren't' directly damaged were suffering from the after effects of Bazett's strength.

Passing by a wall alongside the road, Shirou slammed his fist against it. It did nothing for his pain, but he couldn't help by vent his frustration. He was still so weak, even after all this time. Was his dream impossible? Perhaps he could never live up to Giorno, and was destined to be weak.

No, he wouldn't give in to despair yet. Ignoring the sharp pains in his body, he forced himself to walk. The Holy Grail War was starting, and he wasn't about to fall behind the others. Of course he didn't stand a chance yet, he was, after all, playing with a handicap.

He hadn't prepared his summoning ritual yet, but he would figure something out, he just had to make it back to the estate. Thankfully, there weren't any signs of being pursued as he dragged himself along the street. With every step he took, images of the blue spearman flashed through his thoughts. If he was attacked by that man now…

Shirou either through extreme luck, or some form of divine favor managed to arrive back home safely. Practically collapsing as soon as he entered the front door, he staggered into the living room, falling face first onto a nearby couch. He wanted to at least bandage his wounds, but his body refused to follow his commands. It didn't matter, he was safe here, since Giorno and Arturia each had enough strength to hold off any attackers. Knowing he was surrounded by strong guardians, he closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep, not once noticing how unusually quiet the estate was for that time of night.

* * *

Shirou woke up with a splitting headache a few hours later, his drowsy mind unsure of where he was. Sitting up with a hand against his forehead, he finally realized he had returned home. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he felt a chill run down his spine. He wasn't sure what it was, but something felt off about his surroundings.

It was quiet, like he was the only one home. Shirou's eyes shot wide open, his body freezing in place. The only reason he had fallen asleep, the reason he could let his guard down, was that he was safe around the gang. Not here, no one was here, he had been alone the entire time.

He didn't have time to wonder where Giorno and the others were, any distractions here could get him killed. Was it his honed instincts telling him something was off around him, or some supernatural foresight? He couldn't say for sure, but something had his sense for danger going haywire.

The strange energy of his stand coursed through his body, erupting from his palm and forming a long katana. At the same time, he dove towards the screen door that led to the center yard, crashing through it and rolling across the ground. Any normal onlooker would have thought he had gone mad to do such an unprovoked action, but his entire body told him to escape.

Shirou winced, placing his free hand against his right shoulder. His fingers made contact with the warm sensation of fresh blood. The wound was too clean to have been caused by breaking through the screen; it had to have been created by a blade.

"I have to hand it to you, those are some good reflexes you've got there, kid." His voice practically laughing, Shirou's assailant strode out of the house, his crimson spear rested loosely over one shoulder. "I'm surprised you even realized I was there, not that it'll make much of a difference in the long run."

Shirou's hands trembled as he pointed his sword in the direction of the enemy Servant, but not from fear. His body shook from a different emotion, anger. The smug look of the Servant before him, who thought he had already won; he wanted nothing more than to wipe the smirk off his face.

That was virtually impossible for him, he knew that already. The difference between them was far too great; it wouldn't even be considered a battle. But what else could he do? He wouldn't surrender, and he couldn't' escape, so there was only one path left to him!

He ran at the Servant, swinging his katana in a horizontal swipe. The spearman sidestepped it like Shirou had been moving in slow motion, the blunt end of his weapon colliding with his gut.

Lancer swung his spear, launching Shirou off effortlessly. The young boy hit the ground in a roll, scrambling back to his feet faster than he even thought he could. Tightening his grip on his sword, he lunged back in, flashing a glare towards his opponent.

"I like that look in your eyes, kid." Lancer ducked under Shirou's blade, raising his spear in an uppercut motion. The crimson lance shattered his katana with little trouble, rendering him unarmed. "But you should know your limits better!"

A swift kick fell against Shirou's body, forcing him back to the ground. Placing his boot against Shirou's neck, Lancer stood over him. It was an obvious outcome; the Servant had merely been toying with him before. To be killed by an enemy who wasn't even going all out… maybe he should have let that woman kill him, at least she wasn't holding back.

"Man, what a drag." Lancer raised his red spear, bringing its tip to rest on Shirou's chest. "I don't really have any interest in killing someone so weak; shame you never got to summon your Servant."

An overwhelmingly powerful foe, something that wasn't even human, towered over him. In that instant, Shirou's world was engulfed in flames, remnants of his oldest memories. Nothing had changed since then, all of his hard work, all of the pain… he was just as weak as before.

"Sorry about this, but I'm kind of in a hurry." Lancer's stance shifted, his spear poised to strike. The blood red spear shot towards his heart, but unlike his attacks against Archer, Shirou could see its path. That bastard, he still wasn't taking him seriously!

"Unlimited Blade Works!" Shirou coughed out his Stand's name, the silvery figure bursting out from within him in a split second. Its left hand, made of curved daggers that resembled claws parried the spear thrust, deflecting the attack harmlessly into the ground.

The Stand's right hand, a steel gauntlet like a crusader's, smashed into the surprised Servant's chin, blowing him off his feet. The blade construct crossed its arms, holding its right hand open in front of its face. The single visible eye behind its star-shaped mask flared a bright blue, the same color as the azure flames that burned inside its body.

"Don't underestimate me, _Lancer!" _Shirou stood up, a silver aura seeming to surround him. He still held no illusions about winning, but he wasn't going to die against someone who was only playing around. "Why don't you come at me with your real strength if you want to finish this quickly? If you keep holding back, then I'll waste more of your precious time."

Lancer's eye bulged, a dangerous aura emanating from within him. Seems like he had succeeded in pissing him off, at the very least. Though, he was having some regrets in picking a fight with him now.

"You got a lucky hit in because of that weird magic of yours, don't get cocky!" Lancer vanished, his movement too fast for Shirou to keep up with. Suddenly seven different flashes of light shot across his Stand, and Lancer reappeared behind him.

Blood exploded from his new wounds, having taken the same damage as the Stand in the last attack. Shirou wanted to cry out in agony, but he forced his voice to stay inside of him.

"If you were wondering, that still wasn't going 'all out' for me." Lancer's looked back over his shoulder, that annoying grin returning to his face. Shirou, barely able to stay standing, raised his hand. His stand mimicked the movement, a sword appearing in its grasp. "Oh, the foolish boy still has some fight in him? Come then, let's see how far you can push me."

It was unusual for Giorno to be gone for long, so Shirou's plan was simple. If he kept Lancer at bay long enough, maybe he could survive. This plan seemed contrary to his current actions in antagonizing the Servant, be if he hadn't done so Lancer would have just killed him outright. No, he had to present himself in a way that he seemed like he could entertain the spearman in front of him, or it would be too late.

Throwing the sword in its hand, Shirou's stand quickly drew two more, firing them both like javelins towards the Heroic Spirit. Lancer spun his spear, knocking them all out of the air, laughing as he did so.

The exchange continued, Shirou slowly losing ground with each attack. His defiance was nearing its end, his muscles screamed with each movement he forced them through, his vision blurred with every step he took.

His Stand leapt into a flying kick, narrowly missing the spearman. The long shaft of the Servant's weapon smashed hard against his Stand's body, a wave of nausea coursing through him. Holding back his bile, Shirou's legs began to buckle.

He felt like the world was spinning around him, and he could hardly tell where Lancer was through the haze in his mind. Lashing out almost at random, Shirou's stand threw a series of quick strikes in Lancer's general direction, but he didn't feel the impact of any of them.

So this really was it, he was at his limit. What was he thinking? He couldn't even delay the inevitable more than a few moments, so there was never any way for Giorno to arrive in time to begin with. He was terrified, the enemy before him was just too unreal, and he was out of hope.

A hot burning pain, like he had been hit by a red hot iron seared through his skin. He blinked, looking down to see the shaft of his killer's spear buried deep in his body. His throat filled with blood, spilling from his mouth with a violent cough. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt as badly as he expected, was that because his body was going numb?

Lancer's foot came crashing into him, his mighty kick sending the helpless boy through the air. He smashed through the door to the estate's storage shed, tumbling to a stop on the cold stone floor. Blood poured from his body, coating the ground below him. He was so tired, if he just closed his eyes, his suffering would end…

His life had become an endless struggle ever since that day, maybe it was finally time for him to rest. It would be so much easier, if he stood back up he would have to face despair again, just who knew how much pain awaited him if he opened his eyes?

His fingers dug into the cold stone floor, desperately grasping for any sort of hold. His hands found a groove in the normally smooth surface, and from there his body stirred. He shouldn't have been able to get back up; he was well beyond the limits of an ordinary human being. But yet, he stood up through sheer force of will.

There was only one thought in his mind at that moment, nothing else mattered. He didn't need to survive, or have his wish granted by the Grail, he didn't even need to realize his dream. No, all he wanted was one simple thing, he wanted to _win._

"Don't think… that I'm done yet, Lancer!" Shirou plunged forward out of the building, his Stand forming behind him. A fire lit within his eyes unlike anything before, and the Servant in blue smirked.

"I guess I'll finally get serious," Lancer's brow furled as he took his weapon in both hands. For the first time in the fight, he took up a battle stance. "Show me everything you've got!"

* * *

During the previous war, a certain building had been purchased as a backup workshop by one of the Masters. However, the speed in which the war had escalated ended things before it had come to be used, but the initial preparations had been completed.

In the corner of the yard was a stone shed, with a solid foundation unlike the main house. It was much more suited to magecraft rituals then the rest of the house, so it had been set to be the primary workshop. An all purpose magical circle had been carved into the floor, but it never found any use.

That is, until a fateful day ten years later. Deep crimson spilled into the grooves of the circle, filling each ring. This alone was not enough to activate any sort of powerful spell, but the unique circumstances of that day allowed for a fluke to occur.

The Holy Grail War, a massive ritual that took place every sixty years, or at least, it should have. An error, some aberration in the system caused it restart prematurely. Perhaps this flawed war was also a factor in this event, but it was hard to say for sure.

Seven Masters were chosen, first from the eligible Magi of the three founding families, than from other powerful magic users outside of those bloodlines. Should there be a missing player in this 'game,' an outsider will be chosen. A strong desire, a wish one wants granted is the only catalyst one needs to be selected.

The ritual to summon the Servants, aspects of legendary heroes from days gone past, was merely a formality. All one needs to perform the summoning is the will, assuming they were picked by the grail. A single strong desire in the moment and a miracle can be born, and this Master had nothing if not that.

The air began to hum with latent magical energy, a soft blue glow appearing from within the circle of blood. The ground shook with a low rumble, sparks flying through the room. And then, with a burst of light stronger than a flash grenade, the empty store room was bathed in ethereal light.

An improper summoning such as this general brought forth bizarre servants, mistakes in the system being more common. Perhaps this was the same, but the figure that stood in the circle of light certainly fit the bill of hero. Clad head to toe in steel plate armor; they were obviously not from this time and place.

The figure's heavy armor obscured every feature of their body in its silver and red form. A closed helmet with a brutish horned shape hid their face completely, so it was impossible to tell what emotion the knight was feeling. At their hip was an ornate sword, something that looked out of place on a real solider, it belonged in a museum or a work of art.

The light faded away, leaving the room dimly lit by the moon from outside. The Servant kneeled, bowing their head respectfully. They acted like a perfect knight, as one would expect from their attire.

"Servant Saber, answering the call of the Holy Grail," they addressed the room dramatically, a strange distortion over their voice. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

The knight was answered with silence, no response followed their declaration. They looked up to the sight of an empty room, unsure of what was going on. They were summoned by a Magus, yes? So where then, was their Master?

A distant clang of metal rang out from outside, the red knight standing up in response. Could it be? Were they really attacked while in the middle of the ritual? Moving with a, absurd swiftness despite their bulky armor, Saber dashed out of the small room.

A young man, covered in wounds, fell to the ground at the knight's feet. Across from him was a man clad in blue, wielding a wicked looking spear with an inhuman elegance. It was unmistakable, they were an enemy Servant. Then did that mean this boy was their Master, it seemed hard to believe.

The bloodied young man managed to stand up, seemingly not having noticed the arrival of a third individual. A silver aura burst forth from him, forming into a humanoid figure. The knight flinched at the sight of it, mostly from how unexpected it was. However, this settled things; they were obviously some form of magic user.

"Stand back, Master." the distorted voice of the Servant rang out, causing both fighters to freeze in place. "It's not your place to fight this battle, but mine."

The boy looked over his shoulder, his left eye open wide. His other eye had swollen shut- just what had happened before they were summoned? If their master had taken on a Servant and survived this long… were modern magi all that impressive?

"I am the Servant Saber, answering your call and the Grail's." Repeating themselves, the red swordsmen gave their introduction a second time, now with an actual audience. "I ask of you, are you my Master?"

The blonde boy stood silently, seemingly perplexed by the appearance of the knight in red. Were his wounds so extensive that he could no longer think straight? The knight internally sighed; it was just their luck they were summoned in such a situation.

Finally, the boy reacted, his bruised and bloodied face twisting into a slight smile. Holding his hand out towards the swordsman, he answered them at last.

"Shirou Giovanna," In a voice that showed no concern for how close he seemed to death he introduced himself. "I really wanted to beat this guy on my own, but I guess that's asking too much…"

"Of course it is, Master." the knight met the boy's hand with their own, closing their gauntlet right around his wrist. Their Master seemed confused at first, but soon nodded in approval.

"Never thought I would experience an authentic knight's handshake, it's different than I'd imagined."

"Stand back, Master, and let me to show you an authentic knight's strength!" Unlike the composed introduction, the Servant Saber's tone changed dramatically. Now that the formality of the contract was completed, they had no reason for unnecessary modesty. "It shouldn't even take half of my skill to best this foe. No offense to your prowess Master, it was impressive enough for you to last this long, but a Servant who cannot defeat an ordinary human child isn't worthy of being considered a hero!"

Stepping out between their Master and the Servant Lancer, Saber drew their ornate long sword, taking it in both hands. It didn't seem at all like a blade suited for combat, being far too over designed to be practical, but the knight wielded it effortlessly.

"It's about time; I was getting bored using your Master as target practice." Lancer twirled his spear over his head, bringing it to bear against his new opponent. His attack was as swift as the wind itself, his crimson spear slashing through the air in a devastating arc.

But the spear struck empty air, the knight having disappeared from view. Lancer's stance shifted to defense, turning around just in time to parry a sword slash. Despite their heavy armor, Saber moved with just as much speed as the lightly armored Lancer.

Shirou Giovanna fell to one knee, his strength having finally given out. He was frustrated being unable to do anything, but there was no way he could have helped in this fight in the first place.

The exchange of blows between Servants quickly increased in pace, becoming an incomprehensible whirlwind of motion to Shirou's human eyes. Only by the enhanced perception granted to him by his Stand was even able to follow their movements.

Saber was skilled for sure; it would be hard to find another as trained with the blade in modern times, as expected of the Class title. But compared to Lancer's who had taken his skill to another level entirely, they looked like amateurish at best. Lancer wasted no movements; every single twitch of his muscles was perfectly honed to his style. In contrast, Saber appeared to use brute strength to compensate for their lack of training.

In that way they were even in this fight, Lancer clearly as a disadvantage in strength, never able to force his way through Saber's guard, while Saber crashed through his defenses like a wild bull, only to be gracefully deflected at the last moments.

"What was that about half your strength, Saber?" Lancer leapt past a wide sword swing, thrusting his long spear through a gap in their stance. "Seems to me like you're having some trouble keeping up!"

Saber lunged forward, twisting their upper body so their massive shoulder armor faced the oncoming spearhead. In an incredibly reckless maneuver, they intentionally allowed the spear to glance off their armor, obviously highly trusting of its protective capabilities. Saber used this chance to slip close in to Lancer, their left hand swinging upward. An unthinkable action for a chivalrous knight, Saber struck their foe with a brutish punch.

"Someone of your level isn't even worth sullying my blade, Lancer!" Saber's armored boot came crashing down on Lancer's forward foot, locking him in their range. They tossed their sword into the air above them, freeing both hands for unarmed strikes.

At this range, both swords and spears were at a disadvantage, so what seemed like a foolish mistake was in fact a viable choice of tactic, if not the most noble. Saber's fists, wrapped in steel, collided with Lancer's body again and again, each impact reverberating through the air like a shockwave. Three jabs to the body, followed by a left hook against the chin, and finally a powerfully right uppercut.

Jumping away from Lancer, Saber deftly caught their falling blade, resuming a sword stance. Lancer wiped the blood from his chin, a murderous rage boiling in his eyes.

Shirou, too stunned to say anything, could do nothing but take in information. He was aware that the Grail picked servants based off of personal compatibility, and since he had no prepared relic… was this the best fit for him? He really wondered what that said about himself, summoning this violent Saber.

Another thing he noticed quite quickly was that his Servant was rather short. He hadn't noticed before due to their large steel plate-mail, but they could only be around five feet tall at most. He couldn't call up any legendary short individuals, unless you considered the dwarves of Norse mythology, and this Saber didn't quite fit that description.

He was at a loss; this hero was a complete mystery to him, though the same applied to the spearman. Just who had he summoned, and come to think of it, how had he summoned them? He hadn't had time to perform even the most basic of rituals, so what had even triggered this?

A strong desire to win, one of the clearest emotions he ever felt, as he had exited the shed. There was nothing else, it had to be that. That single minded wish to defeat the enemy before his eyes had pulled forth a miracle.

"Sorry Master, he's a bit tougher than he looked." Saber's movements had obviously slowed since the start, fighting in that style can't be easy, especially in that armor. The magical energy within Saber rose sharply, exploding in a burst that propelled them at even greater speeds than before. "I suppose it's time I stopped holding back!"

Saber's ornate blade sliced an arc through the air, moving fast enough to become a blur. It was an attack aimed to take their enemies life, one that would easily fell an ordinary warrior. But Lancer was no ordinary warrior; he was every bit as powerful as the knight in red he faced.

With a sharp metal clang the spearman deflected the sword blow, twisting his upper body to aim a counter hit. In the blink of eye the attack saber expected to finish things had been reversed, their opponent certainly deserved the title of Heroic Spirit.

The blunt end of Lancer's polearm swept down, colliding with their armored legs. With an inhuman strength the spearman knocked them from their footing, following it up by leaping high into the air.

"It's been fun, Saber, but I can't waste any more time here!" Lancer gripped his spear in both hands, a dark aura erupting from within his spear. The blue clad hero poured magical energy into his spear, and the nature of the weapon changed. No longer just a metal shaft with a bladed end, it transformed into something beyond modern comprehension.

An intense wave of pain shot through Shirou's body as he watched the scene play out almost as if it was slow motion, starting from his eyes. When he had first developed his Stand, looking at any bladed weapon had caused a similar effect, though to a lesser extent. When he saw weapons, everything about them was recorded in his Stand to be recreated later, and the overload of information had caused physical feedback until he was strong enough to handle it.

But the weapon Lancer held was no earthly blade, the depth of its history flooded Shirou's thoughts, threatening to overwhelm his mind. He understood what he was seeing immediately, Lancer was going to use his Noble Phantasm. A cursed spear that always pierced the enemy's heart once activated, some aspect of his Stand allowed him to learn this detail by simply looking at it.

His body was numb; every nerve within him had gone haywire. His Stand had automatically tried to replicate Lancer's Spear, but the stress on his body was too much for him to handle in his current state. Shirou collapsed to one knee, a single cough expelling a large quantity of crimson blood from his throat. Even if he had inhuman endurance thanks to his training and nature as a Stand User, he had taken critical damage.

The airborne Lancer readied his spear, an attack that would end things without a doubt. Even if they weren't prone on the ground, Saber couldn't avoid that spear, no one could. The spear would find its target once activated, that was its power, its curse.

"Gae…" Lancer's face hardened, the playful attitude from his previous fight was erased by his determination. If Saber was concerned about this turn of events however, it was impossible to tell through their expressionless armor. "Bol-"

An explosive crash filled the estate's yard, kicking up a cloud of dust in its wake. But Lancer's trump card… hadn't activated? Shirou could tell instinctively that he hadn't finished calling his Noble Phantasm's name, so what had happened?

The dust cleared shortly, revealing the end result of what had just occurred, but the events that transpired remained unknown to the young Stand user. No longer on the ground, Saber stood in the clearing empty handed. Across from them, pinned against a wall by an ornate blade was Lancer, his blue bodysuit quickly turning red.

"Throwing your sword, with a burst of mana…" Lancer coughed out a few words, pulling the sword from his body with unsteady hands. He fell to his knees, his breathing becoming more erratic by the second. "Is the sword not the pride of a knight? How can you abandon it so casually?"

"A sword is nothing but a mere tool, the only pride I need as a knight is my own, so anything else is just a means to an end." Saber crossed their arms, unconcerned with their lack of armament in the face of the other Servant; did they already consider the battle won? "Had I stubbornly held onto that knight's 'pride' I would not be standing above you now, now would I?"

"I can't argue with that, Saber." Lancer stood up, his body shaking severely. "Under different circumstances I would have preferred to fight to the last breath, but I have a duty to my Master to return to her side. Don't go and get defeated by anyone else before we meet again, understand?"

Without waiting for a response, Lancer leapt out of the area, disappearing into spiritual form. The atmosphere thick with bloodlust dissipated almost right away, though Shirou didn't feel much relief from it. What a joke, even though he had survived against a Servant, and summoned his own… was he still going to die? He couldn't feel his arms or legs anymore, and he felt unnaturally cold. There was still so much he had to accomplish; his dream wasn't even close to being fulfilled! His vision darkening, Shirou lost sense of the world around him, falling unconscious before he realized it.

And Shirou dreamt, he dreamt of a brilliantly silver sword. He had seen it before in his dreams; its ornate basket hilt and distinctive pommel were unmistakable. The blade shined too brightly for him to make it out, just as before. What was this blade, what was his subconscious trying to tell him? He didn't understand, he couldn't understand!

Shirou's eyes shot open and he sat up sharply, a shocking pain spreading through his body. Wincing, he touched his hand to his stomach, his fingers landing gently on a… bandage? His bearing returning slowly, he realized he was in the living room of the estate he called home, his body having been patched up by admittedly shoddy but effective first aid.

If Giorno had healed him there would be no need for bandages, which means this was from another source. There was only one logical choice as to who had done this, but as he scanned the room, he saw no other occupants besides himself.

The incomplete image of the silver sword from his dream still floating through his mind, Shirou raised his right hand. The power of his Stand coursing through his fingertips, he let it loose in a burst of blue flame. A sword began to take shape in his hand, but the image shattered before it came to completion, a shock running through his body.

"You're not really what I expected from a modern magi, are they all like you?" The mysterious voice of his Servant, Saber, cut through his thoughts from behind. Entering the room in full armor, the red knight sat down at the table in the center of the floor.

"You really gave me a shock there, to think my Master can hold his own against Servants!"

"It's not like I had any real chance…" Shirou averted his eyes from the knight, his gaze wandering listlessly across the wall of the room. "It never got beyond him playing around, you can't call that a fight."

"Nonsense! There are surely few in this time that can even do what you just did, don't diminish your accomplishment." The knight crossed their arms, their metal gauntlets grating against each other with a metallic sound not unlike that of Shirou's Stand. "Of course, it was nothing next to my prowess, as I'm sure you'll agree."

His Servants boast, while quite arrogant wasn't without merit; they _had_ forced Lancer to retreat. But still, it was an overconfidence unbecoming of a knight, Shirou had expected someone a bit more humble. A memory from Giorno's instructions bubbled to the surface of his thoughts then, regarding the summoning of Servants. Without a catalyst to summon a specific servant, one with a compatible personality to the Master would be chosen, was this what the grail thought of him?

"In any matter, you are indeed a strong enough Master to handle having me for a Servant. The supply of magical energy you're providing me, while not perfect, is enough to allow me to fight without holding back." Saber raised their right hand, closing it into a fist to punctuate their statement. Their arm began to tremble, and without warning they slammed their gauntlet against the table, nearly shattering it under their strength. "But to think I'd fail already, how could I let that damned Irishman escape so easily? I should have chased after him, before he had a chance to recover!"

"Wait, Irishman?" Shirou's focus ceased wandering the room, locking firmly on his servant. "Are you telling me you've figured out his identity already?"

"Mhm, it was most simple once he began to use his Noble Phantasm." Nodding in response, Saber leaned back against the wall, looking as relaxed as was possible in full plate armor. "He may not have finished calling its true name, but it's no leap to arrive at the current answer."

"Gae.. Bolg." The name of a weapon he shouldn't know escaped Shirou's lips. He had never heard of this spear, and yet it felt like he knew of it intimately, thanks to the power of his Stand. But even with that information, he was unable to arrive at the answer to who wielded it. He knew of its history, yet that spear had many users, had his Servant seen something he hadn't?

"Oh, so you do know it, why act so surprised then?" Whatever magic obscured Saber's real voice did nothing to hide their tone, their last words clearly mocking him. "When you think of that spear, is it not natural to assume its owner to be the Hound of Ulster?"

Of course, it made perfect sense as soon as she had said it, like he had always known. Of Gae Bolg's users he was certainly the most famous, and the man he fought against aptly fit the legends depictions. But, if Shirou acted like he knew now, after saying he didn't… well, he would look worse then not knowing.

"I've heard of the spear, but Irish myth isn't very well known in Japan, so it took a bit for me to remember is all." Shirou attempted to stand up, but a sharp pain in his body, prevented him from doing so easily. Ignoring it, he forced himself to his feet and unsteadily walked towards the kitchen. "Speaking of true names, I just realized I'm painfully unaware of yours."

A silence fell across the room, perhaps he had asked something awkward without realizing? Was it possible this Servant had an aversion to their true name, one that would prevent them from divulging it to even their own Master?

"Before… before I answer that, may I ask what catalyst you used for the ritual?"

"That's just it, I didn't have anything like a catalyst." Shirou returned from the kitchen, two bottles of green tea in his hands. Returning to the table, he placed one in front of the knight before opening the other for himself. "Hell, I didn't even cast the summoning spell, it just… happened?"

Shirou took a swig from his bottle, gesturing with his free hand for Saber to take the other. The knight picked up the tea bottle, examining it intently. With some effort the Servant managed to remove the cap with their steel clad fingers, discarding the cap with a flick of their wrist. For a moment Shirou expected them to try and drink it through their helmet, but that turned out to be untrue. Through some unknown means, likely magical in nature, Saber's helm split down the middle and receded into their armor's large shoulder pads.

The young Gang-Star nearly choked on his drink at the sight of his servant's face, his expectations completely shattered. They looked extremely young for starters, possibly even younger than he was. Their light blonde hair was loosely tied back in a messy ponytail, a style fitting their rough attitude. However, the face under the helmet's mask was anything other than what he expected.

Perhaps they could pass themselves off as young, handsome man, given their gender concealing armor. But the face behind that mask was without a doubt that of a woman's, for Shirou had seen it many times before. They were the spitting image of the white swordswoman in his memories, the same woman he now saw on a daily basis.

Shirou had known for a long time that Arturia wasn't an ordinary human being, considering how strong she was. And it hadn't taken long for him to learn of her identity as a heroic spirit, though her nature was different than a servant. The throne of heroes existed outside of time and space, so could it possibly call fourth two versions of the same hero, the same legend?

"Saber, are you… are you King Arthur?"

The Servant of the sword shuddered at his words, her trembling hand crushing the bottle it held. As the green tea spilled down onto the empty table, her eyes shot an intense glare towards him.

"I see, so that's how it is." Saber stood up, turning her back to Shirou and walking towards the door. "Of course you would want a true heroic spirit, such as my Father. How foolish of me to think you desired to summon me, why would you have?"

Shirou stood up, gritting his teeth through his body's protests, and followed them out into the hall. Without stopping or even looking back, the red knight left the estate and began down the empty street. Shirou knew he had to stop them, but he wasn't sure what to say. He could use a command spell, but their partnership was doomed from the start if he had to rely on that.

She had called King Arthur 'father', ignoring the fact that Shirou knew Arthur to have been a woman in reality, that statement narrowed the choices of heroes which this Servant of his could be. Arthur had various legends of his descendants, but there was only one who would show such animosity towards their father. It was somewhat of a gamble, but he had no choice but to take it!

"Who said… that I wanted to summon King Arthur, _Mordred_." At his words, the red swordswoman stopped in her tracks, slowly turning to face him. "Isn't that you just projecting your insecurity on me? I told you I had no catalyst, so that means I had no intended Servant."

"Why then, why did you say that name?" she walked towards the gang star, her voice filled with anger and an expression that looked as if she would cut him down at any moment if given enough reason. "What about me made you think I was _him, _Answer me!"

Mordred's gauntleted fist came up sharply, her fingers closing around the collar of Shirou's shirt. She was shorter then him by a significant amount, so she was unable to lift him off his feet, even though he suspected she wanted to.

"That's… it's complicated." Shirou remained calm despite her hostile actions, for if he showed any form of resistance he was sure he would lose his life right then and there. Man, what a handful of a Servant he had summoned, just his luck. "I'll explain everything, so just please listen."

"Explain, now." Her grip loosened, but her intense eyes continued to stare up at him. Shirou could barely breathe against the pressure of her oppressive aura, what an incredible feeling of malice she was giving off. "If I don't like your answer, I won't hesitate to sever our contract."

Shirou supposed she didn't mean that in a peaceful way, he had to tread carefully through this minefield. What should he do? Did he tell her the truth, or would that only make things worse? He wouldn't get a chance to find the answer to that question himself however, for a familiar voice sounded out behind him.

"Shirou, what are you doing?" The cold, deep tone of Giorno Giovanna's voice cut through the tense atmosphere, and Shirou let out a sigh of relief. "You're wounded… so the enemy finally made its move? Well done making it back in one piece, more or less."

Shirou was about to turn towards Giorno, when he caught sight of his Servant's expression. Gone was her irritated look, and her focus was aimed behind him. Her mouth crept into a twisted smile, her eyes looking less enraged than they did ecstatic.

"Shirou, are you alright?!" The kind, soft voice calling out to him clicked the last detail into place. He knew what had caused the change in her demeanor now, a wave of terror filling his body. "Wait, that armor…"

Arturia's body tensed up, her instincts taking over. In a flash her white armor appeared, enveloping her in an ethereal beauty that couldn't be achieved by mortal man. She was no mere Servant, and even in her weakened state the overwhelming power of the Counter Force could be felt by her side.

Mordred rushed past Shirou, her burst of speed created a back draft of wind so strong he lost his footing. Her sword was in her hand before anyone could move against her, and the unexpected nature of the attack prevented even Giorno's reactions from kicking in. The incredible speed of her magically enhanced dash was every bit as unbelievable as the Saber of the Fourth War.

Arturia barely had time to draw her own blade, when the crimson swordswoman crashed into her with reckless abandon. A sound like an explosion rang across the street, a blast of dust from shattered asphalt and concrete obscuring Shirou's vision.

"This is wonderful, I never thought I would get my chance in this time." Her voice, dripping with a sadistic pleasure unlike her previous malice echoed out from the dust screen. "_Father."_


	16. Chapter 15: Wish

A symphony of steel rang all throughout the otherwise deserted street, a completely anachronistic sound of battle long forgotten by modern society. Two figures dueled, their swords flashing faster than the human eye could track. Each exchange lasted only a second before they backed off from each other, as neither combatant took the other lightly.

The former servant turned counter guardian, Arturia Pendragon, her body cloaked in pristine white moved with graceful precision. Each shift of her stance, every attack or counter was like a step in a well choreographed dance. She was the ultimate swordsman, and few could come close to her skill, but yet…

The rampaging, furious knight encased in crimson red armor had yet to give up a single inch of ground. If Arturia's movements were perfected skill honed over decades of training, then her opponent was a raging bull with nothing but raw talent. Born for one purpose, her body was crafted by magical means to exceed that of her 'father.'

This knight in red was Mordred, the illegitimate child of King Arthur in many versions of the legend. Unlike the reserved style of her father she fought with reckless abandon, throwing her full strength into every blow. It was nothing like her fight with Lancer beforehand, Mordred's rage now was so great that she almost appeared to be a different Servant entirely.

Slipping past Arturia's defenses, She threw herself against the former King of Knights, her heavily armored body crashing directly into the Counter Guardian. Kneeling over the downed Arturia, Mordred's eyes blazed with a twisted excitement as she readied a followup attack.

"What's the matter, Father?" Mordred smirked, her victory seeming assured. "I don't remember you being this _soft!_"

Mordred's raised fist slammed against the ground, shattering the road beneath them. Somehow, even in her position Arturia had managed to avoid taking the blow by shifting her body subtly. Releasing a burst of mana, Arturia blasted the crimson knight back and leapt back to her feet.

But before she had time to fully recover, Mordred was already on top of her again. Another unarmed strike flew towards her, landing a direct hit against her body. Throwing all of her weight behind it, Mordred's strike launched Arturia across the street, her acceleration only stopping when her body impacted a parked car.

Leaping into the air with enough power to crack the asphalt beneath her, Mordred raised her sword over her head with both hands. At the last moment Arturia managed to roll out of the way, the blade aimed for her cleaving through the car as if it was mere butter.

The battle continued to rage on, witnessed only by two men standing on the outskirts. Shirou's body trembled, from his wounds and fatigue, but also from the terror he felt. If this fight continued, one of them would die. He couldn't let that happen, but there was nothing he could do to stop it, he was powerless against a Servant.

Taking a step forward despite knowing its futility, a sharp pain shot through his body and his head swirled with a wave of dizziness. Just then, a strong, familiar hand rested itself on his shoulder, a wave of golden light enveloping his body. A burning pain coursed through him, but it was nothing compared to his previous agony.

"At first glance I assumed she was the Saber class," Giorno strode out besides Shirou, crossing his arms. "But it looks more like you've summoned Berserker, doesn't it?"

Shirou blinked in confusion and stared at the Gang-Star, was he trying to make a joke? The actions of Giorno Giovanna often left him confused, but this was well beyond the norm, he can he be so relaxed in this situation?

"W-Why are you so calm, don't you care what happens to Arturia? Aren't you two a cu-" the words stuck in his throat, some part of him still unable to admit what was going on between them. He didn't want to see the Boss in that light, it made him seem too normal, too _human._

"A man needs to know when to stay out of things, Shirou." Giorno stared intently at the fight, even though outwardly he appeared calm, it would be dishonest to say he didn't want to step in himself. "This battle is personal; I won't intervene until it becomes necessary."

Shirou clenched his fist, gritting his teeth to control his anger. This was wrong, how could he just sit here and watch his own Servant do this to someone he cared about? In his emotional torrent of fear and anger Shirou didn't even notice that he was in disagreement with Giorno, something that almost never happened. His eyes shot back to the battle, which had taken a turn for the worst.

Arturia should be stronger than any mere Servant, a Counter Guardian is a different beast entirely. But she was weak; her time on earth had weakened her connection to the Counter Force, not to mention the initial damage caused by Giorno's Requiem. It wouldn't be incorrect to say this Arturia was only at about half strength, maybe less.

Her arms hung weakly at her sides, barely able to hold her sword another moment. In the next attack, Mordred would take her head without fail, the young rebellious knight not showing any sign of fatigue.

Mordred dashed forward with a bust of mana, pulling her sword back to strike. She smiled, never having expected to achieve her dream so easily. She would prove she was worthy here and now by defeating this obstacle in her path! Her sword cut across the air, a crimson splatter covering the ground as it sunk into flesh.

Mordred's eyes widened and her shaking hand dropped her bloodied blade, barely able to stand from the shock of what she had just done. The blood she had spilled was not her intended targets, but that of a young blonde boy, a certain Master who had called her to this world.

Shirou's body had moved before he had realized, more out of instinct than rational thought. All he knew was that he had to stop them; he couldn't bear to see them fight any longer. Parent and child shouldn't spill each other's blood; that was his only driving thought. The deep gash in his chest was definitely fatal, but he didn't care as long as he stopped them.

Blood spilling from his mouth as he spoke, he pictured the star shaped marking on the back of his neck, and in a flash one of the halves of the outer star darkened and burned away leaving only a small scar where the red seal had once been.

"Don't you dare lay a finger on her!" Shirou clutched his wound and fell to one knee, his breathing already turning shallow.

"Why… why?" Mordred's body trembled as she looked down at her dying master. "Why would you sacrifice yourself to protect _them?!"_

"You know, you're a lot cuter… when you're not so angry." Shirou's lips curled into a smirk, his vision going black. His body fell limp against the cold ground, a pool of blood spreading out below him.

Staring in shock, a slight red tinge appeared on Mordred's face, what the hell kind of last words were those?! He was truly a bizarre master; everything about this summoning… it had been one strange thing after another, were all grail wars like this?

* * *

It was a distant dream of a far off land, long in the past. But it was not his dream; he had never once experienced anything like this. No, this was the dream, the memory of a young girl who dreamed of being king.

She wanted nothing more than to live up to her 'father,' the king of Britain, but the path ahead of her was difficult indeed. Born a homunculus, she grew to age far faster than other children, but that was fine, she didn't need a childhood. She was made for one thing, to be a better king than her 'father.'

Always chasing a distant figure, trying to escape their shadow, she was exactly like he was. It suddenly became all too clear why the grail had selected her as his Servant, they were alike in more ways than he initially realized.

She hid her gender behind heavy armor, obscured her illegitimate linage with an enchanted mask, and became a knight. Always walking behind them, she tried to live up to his example. She was raised to want only one thing, and she lived that way to the very end.

But how, how could her respect and admiration for her father turn to such rage? Such powerful vitriol? Was this the destiny of one who could never escape their hero's shadow? Love turned to hate out of frustration with oneself, was this too his destiny?

"I won't let that happen!" Shirou screamed in defiance, shooting up in his bed, the dream rapidly disappearing. His body was covered in a cold sweat and his breathing was uneven and heavy.

The mortal wound he had received before was gone, the most obvious answer pointing to Giorno's work. Had he leapt out into danger so easily because he knew Giorno would save him? No, something inside of him said he would have done it regardless. Standing up, he stretched his stiff body and headed out of the room.

As soon as he stepped into the hall, a small, delicate but powerful fist smashed into his jaw, sending him tumbling to the floor. Standing over him with a rather unpleasant expression was his Servant, Mordred.

No longer in full armor, she wore only the cloth aspects of her outfit. For all the effort she went through to hide her gender before, this choice of attire quite readily showed off her feminine features.

"How dare you, how dare you?!" Her fist shook with rage, but eventually she lowered it, turning away from him. "Don't interfere like that again; if you die I'll lose my anchor to this world. Oh, and if you call me _that_ again, the other Servants won't be your problem any longer."

That? Oh, she must have been referring to what he said before he passed out. He wasn't sure why that bothered her so much, did she not know she was cute?

"Don't most girls like being complimented?" He stood back up, rubbing his face where she had struck him. Considering his jaw hadn't broken, she must have held back the majority of her strength.

"Correct what I said before, if you say _that_ to me again, I won't hesitate to find a new Master." Shirou swallowed hard, her murderous gaze sending a chill down his spine. Perhaps he should avoid the subject of her gender; it seemed to be a sensitive topic to say the least.

Being forced to burn one of his limited command spells so early was a serious problem, not just because it limited his resources for the coming war. The relationship between Master and Servant was vital for success, and they were off to a rather bad start. His position was already eroded enough for one day, if her let her get away with this transgression, striking him without warning, he would probably never be able to recover it.

"Mordred, there's one thing you need to know." Stepping forward, Shirou edged himself closer to her, keeping his breathing as calm as possible. He had one chance at this, and if he screwed up he might lose more than just respect.

"Kiri!"

With the sound of metal scraping together, a sliver flash emerged from his body. Blades twisted and bent, forming the humanoid figure of his Stand. Before Mordred could even react to it, the Stand had positioned itself between them, a longsword appearing inches from her neck.

"I'm the Master here, and I won't hesitate just because you're a Servant." His dead-set expression should tell her how serious he was, his eyes locked on hers in as close an approximation of Giorno's stoic gaze. "You've already seen proof of that."

Any other Servant and this would be the wrong choice of action, likely angering them further. But he had seen her past within that dream, and the grail had chosen them as compatible, so he made a bet that she would respect nothing but strength. If he could at least partially embody that strength she admired so deeply, maybe things could still work out.

Mordred smirked, placing her pale fingers on the flat of his blade. As if it was no effort at all she pushed the sword away, cocking her head to the side.

"You wanna go right now, Master?" Her eyes flared violently, but there was a hint of playfulness in her voice unlike her fight with Arturia. "Perhaps tasting my might for yourself will give you the proper respect for my abilities."

"Nah, I'll pass." Dismissing his Stand Shirou turned and walked down the hall, putting his hands in his pockets casually. "To be perfectly honest, I don't think I can win against you if we're being realistic, I'm not as strong as the Boss."

"Humph, that's no fun." Mordred crossed her arms and followed him as he entered the living room of the house. "Thought I was gonna get to smack you around some more."

Keeping a cool exterior, Shirou breathed a silent sigh of relief. That had gone better than he had hoped, and it seemed like the tension between them was dissipating. Had she actually attacked him there he wasn't sure what he would have done, having not quite thought his plan through.

"I've been meaning to ask, but what manner of magecraft is that, Master?" Practically throwing herself into a nearby chair, Mordred took up a relaxed posture at total odds with her previous behavior. "I can think of nothing like it from my time; is it some form of familiar?"

"Hm? I suppose it's more like a psychic power then it is magic, like a projection of my soul or something along those lines." Shirou took a seat across from his Servant, his gaze shifting down to his hand. Flexing it a few times, he clenched it into a fist, his Stand's arm appearing next to his own. "The boss called it fighting spirit once, and it's definitely got some connection to my own willpower."

"This 'Boss' of yours, he possesses this power as well?" Mordred leaned forward, the conversation having piqued her interest more than Shirou would have expected. "Tell, me, how does one gain such an ability?"

"Interested in becoming a Stand User, _Saber_?" a voice cut into the conversation, both Shirou and Mordred turning to face the new presence in the room. Giorno Giovanna strode in calmly, the familiar face of Arturia Pendragon trailing him closely. "It is not a power suitable for one such as yourself; I doubt you would gain much benefit from it."

"Hrmph, my Master seems convinced this 'Stand' as you called it puts you on par with Servants such as myself, yet you say it's a power unworthy of Servants? How absurd."

"It is not my Stand that makes me capable of standing against heroic spirits, but my 'resolve' to achieve victory." Giorno raised his hand; a butterfly fluttering through his fingers. "The abilities of my Gold Experience are merely one of the many tools I possess."

"G-Giorno is just saying you're already strong enough, so you don't need to rely on something like a Stand, right?" Noticing his Servant's evident agitation, Shirou cut in with an attempt to put things to rest, hopping out of his chair to stand between the two groups.

"Well, that much is true at least." Mordred rose to her feet, cracking her neck with a roll of her shoulders. "If I split my focus too much, I wouldn't be able to reach my full potential."

Mordred's focus finally shifted to the last member in the room, her eyes narrowing into a scowl at the sight of the woman. Shirou panicked at first, not sure if his command spell would be strong enough to hold back such a wild hatred, but in the end Mordred didn't attack.

"I don't know what you've been doing in this world up until now, _Father_, but you've grown terribly weak." Mordred pushed her way past Arturia, her shoulder not so subtly slamming against the older swordswoman's body, knocking her off balance. "Defeating you as you are now serves no meaning to me, I can't prove my strength against this pathetic excuse for a knight."

Mordred stormed out of the room, a violent aura seeming to surge around her. it was obvious that there was more to it then she let on, but the fact she was forbidden from attacking Arturia was already putting a strain on her. Shirou quickly followed her into the hall, where he found her headed for the door.

"Where do you think you're headed, aren't Servants meant to protect their Masters?"

"You'll be safe enough here, with _them_." Mordred refused to look back towards him, her hands shaking in tight fists at her sides. "I let Lancer escape before, as a knight that was unacceptable, so I shall go track him down now."

"You're in no condition to do that, and we both know it." Shirou slowly approached her, stepping out in front of her to block her departure. "Have you forgotten we're connected? It'll take more than a few hours yet for your mana reserves to refill, you need to rest."

"Lancer took more damage than I did in that battle, so I still hold the advanta-"

"And if another Servant were to attack you, what then?" Intercutting the conversation again, Giorno appeared at the other end of the hallway. "You should listen to your Master, Saber. Going into battle rashly will only end badly for all of us."

They were right, she knew they were right, but still… she couldn't stand staying, doing nothing. Staying here with _her; _why did it have to be her? She had no idea how a heroic spirit who was not a Servant was persisting in the world, or how she arrived in the first place, but it was undeniable she was here.

Ordinarily, she would have loved to get a second chance against her 'father,' to show her how wrong they were about her. But seeing her like this, living in the modern world as if none of her past had happened, it disgusted her. She was domesticated, no longer a ferocious lion of war, but a docile cat playing house. What good would showing her mettle against this Arturia do?

"Shirou, my intel suggests that you're the final player to enter, so the war can now officially begin." Giorno locked eyes with his apprentice, his expression softening so subtly you would never have noticed if you weren't one of his closest friends. "I will assist in any way I can, but the next move is yours alone to make."

Shirou nodded, his eyes falling so his gaze landed on his feet. His body was trembling with fear, but at the same time, there was an excitement within him. This was his chance, he could finally prove himself worthy of being by Giorno's side, prove that these years hadn't been a waste of effort.

"Saber…" Shirou looked up, his eyes meeting the young knight's. They were the same, nothing but children wanting to prove themselves worthy of their mentor figures, was this the work of the Grail? Or simply fate intervening? "Let's go, follow me."

"Did you not just say we shouldn't fight at this time, Master?" Mordred looked puzzled, and Shirou's clam expression held no answers for her. "What sort of hypocritical action is this?"

"Going to the supervisor are you, Shirou?" Giorno walked over and placed his hand on Shirou's shoulder. "I'm impressed with your lack of hesitation; you've grown strong these last few years."

"Of course I have, you wouldn't have let me become a weak man." Shirou pulled on his school jacket, which was closer at hand then his personal one, his eyes catching sight of Mordred's current state of dress. While not technically a problem, she was dressed in a way that stood out in the modern era. "Do you… do you think you could take spiritual form, Saber?"

"I refuse, I want to keep my feet firmly planted on the ground." Crossing her arms in defiance, Mordred puffed up her cheeks. The immaturity she tried to hide was shining through her façade quite brightly, though Shirou felt it best not to point that out. "If your concern is my dress, I can always re-equip my armor."

Shirou didn't know how exactly to explain to her that wearing her armor would only make the problem worse, shouldn't it be obvious? He could feel that the future ahead of him was going to be rather difficult if this was an indication of how things were going to go.

"A-Actually, I might have a solution to this…" the voice of Arturia Pendragon meekly interrupted from behind Giorno, a shopping bag from a downtown clothing boutique in her hands. "I bought this for myself, but I picked up a smaller size out of habit, so they don't fit…"

Taking the bag without a second thought, Mordred peered inside and smirked. Without any sort of hesitation and showing a complete disregard for her surroundings, she began to change right there.

Shirou and Giorno both found themselves lying on their backs on the front step of the estate, the door slammed in their face by what Shirou could only assume was Arturia, as it had happened too fast for him to really see. But really, what was his Servant thinking? Was she unaware of how to act proper, wasn't she a knight?"

Shirou's face flushed red, an image of the pale white skin of her Servant's body crossing into his thoughts. Shaking his head vigorously, he stood up and dusted himself off. Giorno was already on his feet, leaning against the estate's out wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Looks like you've summoned a troublesome Servant, she suits you." Giorno looked up towards the currently rising moon, a gentle wind flowing through his golden blonde hair. "Do you think you can handle her?"

"Don't be ridiculous, this is nothing for me." Shirou smirked, sweeping his hair back with one hand. "You should see some of the girls Shinji finds."

Shinji… he hadn't spoken to him since that fight, was he still mad? If he let him have some space he should cool off, but he didn't like not being able to confide in his friend. Now of all times was when he needed Shinji the most, why had things ended up like this?

"I am ready, Master."

Striding out of the house with renewed vigor, the Servant of the sword walked into the street, stopping a few feet from Shirou. Wearing a white tube top under a red leather jacket, exceedingly short cutoff jeans, and high boots transformed her from a medieval warrior to a fashionable foreign girl, who didn't look at all out of place in the current year. Despite the rather cold night air she seemed unaffected in the limited coverage her clothing provided, likely due to her body being a Servant's.

Giorno's contemporary western fashion sense had bled through the ranks of Passione quite quickly, and Arturia was no exception. Though admittedly, Shirou thought this particular outfit matched Mordred more than its original owner.

His cold stare piercing through her, even Mordred froze up in the face of Giorno's presence. It wasn't that she could feel any hostility from him; in fact it was quite the opposite. But it was that _lack_ of hostility that should be there, that was what unnerved her. His expression seemed harsh and by all rights he should be furious with her, but she felt nothing from him, was that even possible?

"Don't let anything happen to him out there." Walking past Mordred, Giorno spoke without emotion before returning to the house. "Or you'll find that the enemy Servants will be the least of your concerns."

The tense atmosphere kept her rooted in place despite his departure, and Shirou likewise remained immobile. After a short time that felt as if it would never end, Shirou turned away from Mordred.

"Let's get going, the sooner we're done with this chore the sooner we can begin preparations for the rest of the war." Shirou set off, his confident gait having only one destination in mind. "Normally a Master should send a familiar for this, but I don't have anything like that."

"Is there any point in going to see the supervisor, Master?" Mordred let out a yawn as she followed beside him, obviously uninterested in their current course of action. "Regardless of this step, the others will be out for a fight, this act is meaningless."

"It may never come to pass, but I would prefer to keep the church on our side should we need their assistance."

"So it's a long term strategic play then?" Mordred's sense of intrigue seemed to perk up at his words, no longer looking bored. "What do you hope to gain from the impartial overseers of this ritual?"

Shirou stopped at the end of the block, a chilling gust of wind cutting through his thin school jacket. The revving of a distant car engine was all that could be heard on this otherwise quiet night.

"Who knows? Probably nothing, but I still think it's best to do it." Throwing a quick glance at his Servant, Shirou continued to walk down the road, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. "If nothing else, maybe it'll convince the other teams that I'm the type who plays by the rules."

Nodding, Mordred silently agreed with her Master. It was a sound plan, throwing off the other teams perception of them early on could cause them to make mistakes in their own strategies. But something didn't feel quite right; did he really believe what he was saying? She had seen him stand up to a Servant in a one on one fight, underhanded tactics felt out of place with that image in mind. And with that thought, another began to weigh on her.

"Master, are you… are you really fine with a Servant like me? I know you said you had no intended hero, but who you got isn't even a 'hero' to begin with."

"Honestly, it's kind of a relief." Shirou turned a corner, heading towards a bridge that lead to the other side of the city. Their destination, the church, was still quite far on foot. "Being in charge of some legendary, perfect hero… that's too much pressure for me. No, being the Master of someone who's made mistakes, who understands failure, isn't that more fitting for a normal human?"

"Be careful what you say here, _Master_, you're rather close to insulting me directly." While her words could have carried with them a serious threat, she sounded more amused than anything else. His answer, while she couldn't fully believe it, made her feel much calmer. "I'll have you know I'm every bit as capable as my father, both as a swordsman and in kingship."

It wasn't a lie, she truly believed that. While she was defeated in battle by King Arthur, she had also landed a mortal blow against them, in that way she had not really lost, but rather tied.

And as for kingship, well, she had never been given the chance to prove herself due to her illegitimate birth. There was no reason she couldn't do as good a job or better then her father; they were equals in her eyes.

Shirou held up his hand, signaling her to stop. Her eyes narrowed, finally noticing the shift in atmosphere. Too absorbed in her thoughts, she had let her senses dull. The air was tense, the lack of sound becoming more then that of just a quiet night. Someone, or something, was following them.

"We should watch what we say, seems like we have a rather rude observer who doesn't know not to eavesdrop." Shirou sounded oddly calm despite being spied on by someone that could only be another master. "Seems like they're not interested in attacking just yet, so if we guard our words there's nothing they can gain from this."

Since they just noticed it now, it was probable that their observer hadn't heard the conversation up to then, so Mordred realized her Master's intent quite easily. By intentionally allowing them to view their current deceptive action, they furthered the idea that they were a team who would fight fairly.

"As you wish, Master." Assuming her knightly persona from her initial introduction, Mordred cast aside her wondering doubts; she would have time to worry about them later. "Let us inform the Church of our intent to fight quickly, so that we may face the enemy on the field of battle with no hesitation!"

The pair hurried across the bridge, heading straight for the western church by the edge of town. It was a rather rundown old place, and not many in Fuyuki really followed the Vatican's teachings, but yet it still stood. Those in the world of magi knew this to be for the purposes of watching over the ritual that took place here, but even then it felt out of place to Shirou. Surely they could have watched the magi activity in secret, why have such a public presence in the first place?

Looming over them at the top of a hill, the worn down building finally came into view. Shirou took a deep breath to calm his nerves, and stepped up to the door. Giorno had once instructed him to stay away from the Church, and even though he had no choice he still felt strange coming here after all this time. But it wasn't that big of a deal; the Church's overseer was a kind, elderly priest from what he had heard, he could handle that.

"Wait for me here, I'll make this quick." Shirou placed his hands on the cold wooden door, his body hesitating to take the last step inside.

"Sure, I have no interest in such formalities." Nodding, Mordred leaned against the rough stone wall of the building, crossing her arms and shutting her eyes. "I shall remain on guard until you're finished."

Shirou was out of excuses, nothing was left to stop him from crossing that last threshold. Taking hold of the cool metal handle of the heavy wooden door before him, he pulled it open. A gust of warm air from inside rushed past him into the cold night. Swallowing hard, his foot hesitantly stepped into the building.

* * *

The door clicked shut behind him, completely cutting him off from the outside world. Silently walking down the hall, he didn't even look at the woman waiting for him inside. A hand gently fell on his shoulder, offering him what little comfort it could.

"It's not your fault, you should know that." Despite his lack of visible emotion, she had seen through his stony exterior as if it were child's play. There were few who could hope to see though his façade, and even less that were so accurate. "You can't be everywhere at once."

"I know that, I've done everything I could to prepare him to stand on his own two feet." Giorno Giovanna turned around, his expressionless eyes locking with those of Arturia Pendragon. "But you saw his condition when we arrived, it's a miracle he survived that long."

"But he came back alive, didn't he?" Arturia's arms wrapped around Giorno's body, her body's heat becoming apparent as she pulled him closer. "You can't protect him forever, or he'll never grow."

"I never expected to feel like this when I chose to train him… it's quite the curious emotion." Giorno's large, strong hand closed over the back of Arturia's head, lightly aiming her face towards his own. "I guess I'm more of an overprotective big brother then his 'Boss' at the moment, don't you think?"

"It suits you."

Their lips met in a gentle kiss, lasting only a moment before Giorno pulled away. This pain, this frustration at being unable to help Shirou when he needed it most, it was worse than any wound he suffered in his battles. He could win this war on his own, but if he did he would rob Shirou of his best chance to grow. In the face of an overwhelming enemy, one's true self can shine through much easier, he knew that well.

"It's funny; I've never questioned my actions so much before, have I really made the right choice?" Giorno turned away from her, gazing listlessly down the hall.

"Trust in him, he's stronger than you think. If he wasn't, how could he have kept up with you for so long?"

Alright she was right; he couldn't shake his current feeling. Was he really this worried? Or perhaps it was something else that truly bothered him. In the previous war he had been a participant, a Servant. Yet now he was nothing more than a third party, a spectator standing on the sidelines.

Periods of inaction always cause him to become more worked up than usual. He was, as much as he tried to deny it, a warrior. Without a battle to fight, some enemy to face down, he was nothing more than a man. But his battle was over, and as much as he desired to take part in this Holy Grail War, it wasn't his war to wage. Should the damage of the war begin to spread to the civilian populous as in the previous, he would intervene of course.

"Relax, nothing more is going to happen tonight, and he has his Servant with him…" A pained look crossed Arturia's face, her expression turning downcast. Of all the Heroic Spirits he could have summoned, it had to be _them._ "P-personal history aside, Mordred is… a powerful knight, worthy of the title of Saber."

Giorno didn't respond, knowing nothing he could say would make any difference. They were both in pain, the cause oddly similar. While he considered Shirou more akin to a brother, it would be wrong to say he hadn't become somewhat of a father figure to the boy. And then there was Mordred, the illegitimate child of Arturia. Both had a complicated relationship to their 'children,' one that only made this entire situation more difficult for the both of them.

Leaving the hall, Giorno headed into the kitchen. There was no use dwelling on things he couldn't change too long, and while he couldn't change Arturia's painful past, there was something he could do right now. Before Arturia had a chance to ask what he was doing he was already deeply focused on his current task.

Before long the light aroma of expertly made Italian cuisine filled the estate, along with the almost rhythmic sounds of Giorno's skilled prep work. Smiling softly, Arturia took a seat the living room, allowing the atmosphere to wash over her as if she was in a high end restaurant.

This was only the beginning; he couldn't afford to worry too much now. Shirou was strong; he would be able to overcome this battle and will come out of it even more powerful. Truly, this was only the first step on his adventure, everything before had been a mere prelude.

Appearing from the kitchen after around twenty minutes, Giorno placed two trays of food down on the table. Arturia's eyes sparkled with delight as she stared longingly at the feast before her, but her kingly mannerisms prevented her from jumping in too recklessly.

Bringing out a bottle of red wine, Giorno poured two glasses and handed one to her, finally taking a seat across from her. Holding his glass into the air, Giorno's already hard expression seemed even more like a statue chiseled masterfully from marble.

"Buon appetito."

And so the two dined, but the events from that day still weighed heavily on both of their minds.

* * *

The inside of the church was more than he could ever have imagined. The eerie light peering through the ornate stained glass cast ethereal light on the empty rows of pews. The deep sounds of a pipe organ resounded from within the church, only further adding to the bizarre, otherworldly atmosphere.

Delicate white fingers danced across the keys, producing the beautiful melody with exceptional skill. The young woman's hands were wrapped in bandages, which appeared to stretch up her arms quite a long ways. Her focus didn't shift from the instrument before her even after Shirou entered, had she not noticed him?

Unable to gather the nerve to interrupt, Shirou quietly sat down in the one of the empty pews. For the next few minutes he did nothing but listen to her song, watching her graceful movements from behind. Her long, white hair swayed gently with each movement, and he could almost mistake her for an angel.

The song came to a close, the mysterious woman standing up from the organ's bench. With a short bow to the instrument, she turned around, facing Shirou's direction. His body tensed up under her gaze, her blank stare far more intense then it should have been. Were all nuns like this? No wonder Giorno avoided the church.

"How embarrassing, I didn't realize I had an audience." The young woman, who looked to be around twenty years old, spoke with a flat tone, her voice carrying none of the emotion her words implied. "The reason I play so late at night is so I can avoid situations like this."

Shirou was at a loss for words, unsure of how to continue from here. He needed to talk to the overseer of the church, Father Dilo, not this nun, but already he felt himself being drawn into her pace. Something about her words annoyed him, as if she was blaming him for being there as if he had done something wrong.

"Merda, I thought nuns were supposed to be kind, you could drive away new followers with an attitude like that you know?" Shirou stood up and walked back to the center of the church. Since this girl was the only one in the main building, he had to deal with her before he advanced, so he might as well get it over with.

"Oh? Are you a lost lamb then, come to find his flock?" The girl cocked her head to the side, continuing to respond in an emotionless manor. "Somehow I don't think you've come to converse with the Lord, so what is your purpose here, boy?"

Shirou gritted his teeth in annoyance, being called a 'boy' by someone who wasn't much older than him was quite a bit more irritating then he could have imagined. They had barely started to converse but he already found this girl incredibly difficult to deal with. She acted emotionless, making it hard to read her, but Shirou was used to dealing with such characteristics already. He could feel a subtle intend behind her words, her kind personality was likely a cover for a less than angelic inner self.

"If you have no need of me, I shall depart for bed." The girl turned towards the back door of the church, taking a single step before looking over her shoulder towards Shirou. "But if you require guidance, I shall happily oblige."

"I need to speak with the head priest… about the war." Shirou forced himself to ask, even though he really didn't want to, what if this girl didn't know what he was talking about. "Can you go get father Dilo, please?"

"I'm sorry, I cannot." Her blunt response caught Shirou off guard, what did she mean she couldn't? "Father Dilo was transferred overseas. However, you may tell me your problem if you wish, though I'm not sure how I could comfort you, outside an offering of the flesh."

"E-Eh?" Did he just hear her right? Shirou's face was burning red before he knew it, but his reaction had no effect on the expression of the girl. "I'm sorry, did you just say…"

"Indeed, were it to bring you peace in whatever is bothering you, I will allow you to take me right here, are you interested?"

"H-How will that help me?! I need to talk to the overseer of the Holy Grail War!" In his embarrassment and confusion at her bold, insane statement, Shirou blurted out what he was avoiding saying. Realizing it far too late, the Girl turned and walked back towards him.

"Hmm, that's for the best I suppose. While I would forgive you for such an act, I doubt the Lord would be so easily appeased." Placing her hand on her chin, the girl fell into deep thought, her golden eyes, aimed at the floor. "But why did you ask for the head priest before, when you need the Overseer?"

"Aren't they… the same thing?"

"Ordinarily so, but currently there is no head priest here, as I already said." The woman brought her face dangerously close to his, her large golden eyes seeming to glow in the dim light of the church. "Are you sure you don't wish to force yourself on me? You seem to have a lot of pent up stress. It would be much better to aim that at someone willing to forgive then one who wouldn't."

"I would never do something like that, what kind of person do you think I am?" Shirou could feel himself starting to sweat, and his heart started to beat loudly against his chest.

"Caren Hortensia." Shirou blinked at her words, confused. Time felt as a standstill while he tried to work out the meaning of her response. Noticing his dilemma, she stepped back a bit, lifted the corners of her skirt and gave a refined, feminine curtsy. "That is name of the current Supervisor of the Holy Grail War, and subsequently, my name."

He had played right into her hands from the start, hadn't he? This whole time, she knew why he was here this _whole_ time! But she acted oblivious, just to tease him. This was… this was worse than having a slight imperfection in her personality masked with false kindness, this was outright sadism.

"Not very self assertive, are you? Well, I suppose it's not really your fault."

"What the hell are you saying, you annoying nun?" Shirou no longer felt like maintaining his kind act towards her, his true feelings showing threw much more clearly.

"That was better, though how much of that is your own, and how much is just an imitation?" Caren crossed her arms, pushing up her modest chest with her arms, was this a new attempt to get a rise out of him? "Living in such a large shadow for so long… anyone would have turned out like this in one way or another."

"What do you know… about my life?" Shirou's eyes narrowed and his hand closing into a fist. His fingers dug into his palm, a thin line of blood running down his hand. "Don't talk about things like you're my therapist, _cagna._"

"Puer stultus, is that any way to talk to a woman of god?" The twisted nun ran her fingers through her hair, flipping a large strand to the side with right hand. What she had said wasn't Italian, though he thought it sounded similar, Latin? "But asking the blind to see is beyond my duties; even I cannot guide you in this matter."

"Shut up, you know nothing about me." Turning away, Shirou began to storm out of the church, forgetting his original objective.

"Oh? But I know many things about you, _Shirou Giovanna._"

He froze mid step, a chill running through his body at the sound of his name. Of course, if she was the overseer of the church it made sense for her to know him, as he had gained his command spells months before the war began after all. But the fact that she knew means that in some way, she had been watching him. And the thought of that seemed worse than the idea of being spied on by other masters; at least _they_ had clear motivations.

"You're not… a very kind nun, you know?" He felt like he had said this before, but his tone was far different from then. "Shouldn't you help people, not torment them?"

"Sometimes cruelty is the only option, I'm sure you know that." Caren's bandaged hand landed on his shoulder, causing him to flinch at her touch. "It isn't that I wish for you to be in torment, merely that it brings me great pleasure to see you suffer."

He was pretty sure there was a massive contradiction in that statement, but ignoring her hypocrisy for a moment, the beginning of her point was valid. When he had killed Sakura, his friend who had been consumed by the darkness of the previous grail, it had been the only choice left to make.

And she wasn't wrong about him, no matter what he wanted to believe, he hadn't escaped Giorno's shadow. That's why he had to fight in this war, and win with his own power; he had to prove to himself that he could do it.

"I can tell you intend to fight, but before you leave, may I ask you one question?" Retracting her hand from his shoulder, the young woman pulled back a step. "What do you desire from the grail?"

What he wanted from it? His wish, anything in the world… he struggled to think of something, anything, but there was nothing. Shirou Giovanna had no use for such a thing, he would create his dreams with his own hands, and anything less was pointless. But he needed to answer her, and saying he had no wish felt like it would play right into her hands. A single word appeared in his mind, and he spoke without hesitation.

"I want to be a Gang-Star."


	17. Chapter 16: Contradiction

Under the twilight gloom of a solitary moon, a figure cloaked in red waited. The shadow cast by the looming church behind them completely obscuring what little light the moon provided. They waited under the cold night, showing no signs of being affected by the sharp chill in the air.

Tracing her finger through the dirt at her feet, the crouched swordswoman sighed. She might be a legendary historical figure, a heroic spirit of the highest caliber, but she was also still a child. In times like these, her immaturity shone through brighter than any star in the night sky.

"So boring… hurry up will you, Master?"

It had been but a few minutes since he had entered the building, but inaction was already starting to erode her patience. It wasn't that she wanted to be a part of this discussion with the war's overseer, but having no role to play in it still bothered her greatly.

Mordred clenched her fist, remembering the events from earlier that night. First Lancer had escaped, and then her Master had interfered with her rematch against her father. Two fights in one day without a real conclusion to either… she was starting to feel like a woman with an unsatisfying lover. All of her pent up rage threatened to boil over at any moment, and she needed something to take it out on.

Mordred's eyes snapped to the left at the faint sound of a footstep breaking a twig, her vision focusing on a small figure in the distance. Too dark to make out many details about them, Mordred stood up and began to walk forward. It might seem like a reckless action, but she still remained cautious as she approached.

"Isn't it a bit late for little kids to be playing outside alone?" Mordred cocked her head to the side, her hands on her hips. She had expected something else, an enemy master perhaps, but it was nothing but a child. A young girl around eleven or twelve, in a purple coat and hat smiled kindly up at her.

"Aren't you cold, big sister?" The girl twirled a lock of her pale white hair around her finger, her large eyes intensely staring at the casually dressed Servant.

"Nah, I'm alright." Mordred wasn't quite sure why she was talking to this girl, but the distraction was quite welcome. "Shouldn't you be getting home? It's dangerous outside at night you know?"

"Don't worry about me," giggling, the girl spun around playfully. 'You should be more concerned about _yourself_."

The air around them became heavy, filled to the brim with a thick malice. Mordred's entire body stiffened in an instant, all of her instincts telling her to escape, but her body was frozen in place. The girl's innocent smile now looked twisted, her true intentions showing though.

Appearing behind the little girl, a massive black form loomed over her. A giant made more imposing only by his inhuman aura. There were no doubts about it; this man could be nothing other than a Servant of the highest caliber. The raw power that poured from his very being was overwhelming; he was in a different class of heroic spirit entirely to her.

"I was hoping to take you out along with your Master, but he's in neutral territory right now." Referring to the church, the girl pouted like she had just been denied a new toy by her father before looking up at her Servant. "I don't know what class you are, but it won't make much of a difference against my Berserker. He's the strongest hero in the world after all, Heracles."

If Mordred's previous state was akin to being frozen in place, then the realization of who this enemy was had turned her to stone. Normally, one would hide their Servant's identity in order to conceal any weaknesses they possessed along with their trump cards, but the name of this hero carried an inverse effect. The strongest Greek hero, a demigod without peer, he could be said to be a legend without any sort of weakness.

"Kill her, Berserker!"

Moving impossibly fast for his vast size, the ancient hero followed their master's command without a second thought. Their tremendous muscles bulged as they lifted a massive slab of stone into the air as if it was a blade, before charging towards the stunned knight. The stone sword was not a noble phantasm, in fact it was nothing more than an ordinary piece of rock, but the abilities of the Berserker more than made up for that.

Unable to react or evade, the hulking Servant crashed right into Mordred, an explosion of dust obscuring them from view. Berserker's master smirked, thinking the battle ended already.

" ▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅！" The enraged Servant's inhuman roar echoed across the empty street. Violently thrashing around blindly in the dust cloud, Berserker reduced his surroundings to rubble with ease, showing no signs of tiring from swinging such a massive weapon.

"Oi oi, is that any way… to treat the future king of Britain!" A silver flash cut through the air, the force of their blade's strike blowing away the dust around them. Standing in the center of the creator formed by Berserker's mad rush, Saber stood in full armor. "I guess I'll have to teach your Master some respect, you rabid dog!"

Berserker lifted his axe-like stone sword over his head, unleashing a second roar as he rushed towards the armed knight. Mordred, having dodged the first attack out of pure reflex, readied her blade. The curse had been broken with that first blow, and her body felt light again. Any fear she had experienced was washed away in a sea of adrenaline, and her lust for battle had awakened in full force.

With a burst of magical energy she swung her blade to deflect Berserker's, the two weapons meeting in mid air. A shock ran down her arms, his power was more than she had expected. She couldn't block his blows if they held that kind of power, so she had no choice but to dodge!

Mordred leapt over Berserker's next attack, swinging down in a skillful flying slice. But her blade missed its target, cutting through empty air. Berserker moved too fast for her eyes to track, reappearing behind her.

"..!" Mordred couldn't alter her direction in mid air to evade the next strike; she would have to trust her armor's strength this time. Covering her body with her arms, she braced for the hit.

Berserker's sword axe-sword splintered as it violently smashed into her armor, sending small chips of stone flying in every direction. The knight in red was thrown through the sky like a limp ragdoll, bouncing against the ground several times before rolling to a stop.

The taste of iron filled Mordred's mouth, blood running down her face inside of her helmet. The world wouldn't stop spinning as she shakily stood up, unable to tell what direction Berserker even was compared to her. The sound of Berserker's heavy footsteps alerted the disorientated Swordswoman of his approach, and still unable to tell his location, she dodged blindly to the left.

The ground beside her exploded under the force of his attack, Heracles' blade passing inches from her head. Had her intuition not been so well honed she would have likely fallen to that attack then and there.

Mordred didn't want to admit it, but her Master was right. The energy spent on her previous fights was catching up to her; her movements were sluggish compared to before. Against any other opponent it would be a negligible difference, but she couldn't face such an overwhelming foe as she was now.

Lowering her helmet into the shoulders of her armor, Mordred shook the blood from her face. Berserker wasted no time in charging in, his assault showing no signs of slowing. Ducking under his wide swing, Mordred's blade sliced across the giant's right leg, but it wasn't a crippling blow.

"Damn, you sure are a tough one." clicking her teeth in irritation, Mordred retreated, hopping out of the way of Berserker's counterattack.

The fight continued with Mordred on the defensive, barely avoiding Berserker's attacks. It was completely unlike her other fights so far, where she could exchange blows evenly with her opponent. This was no duel between knights; it was a desperate struggle to survive against an impenetrable storm.

" ▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅！" Berserker's blade soared through the sky with an insane force, the undeniable strength of the gods themselves. If she didn't avoid this blow, it was all over, Mordred understood this perfectly. She backed up, readying herself to roll out of the way, when her foot caught on a rough part of the ground, throwing off her balance.

Mordred's mind went blank with shock, barely able to comprehend her situation. She was falling backwards due to a stone in the ground below her, was this reality? Not the skill of her opponent or his sheer strength was her downfall, but an unlucky step that could have bested a child? The oncoming stone sword filled her vision, her body unable to respond to her thoughts screaming at it to escape.

A metal clang rang out before her, shattering her stunned state. Blinking in surprise, Mordred saw the back of a familiar person who shouldn't be there. Standing between her and Berserker, his arm outstretched as if to block her from the monstrous Servant before them his blonde hair swayed in the wind.

Blood ran down his arm and down the broken blade in his hand, had he deflected that giant's strike?! No, that wasn't possible for a human. Then she saw it, Berserker's massive sword suspended in the air, stopped in place by an ethereal figure made of blades.

"M-Master… how?" She couldn't understand how he had appeared with such perfect timing, or why he would try and intervene in the fight directly. The bizarre actions of her Master only seemed to stack up as time went on, and she had only been summoned a few hours ago.

"Yo, looks like you could use a hand." Turning to face her, Shirou Giovanna held out his hand towards her.

Standing up without taking his hand, Mordred's grip tightened on her sword. Somehow, the strange actions and calm demeanor of her Master in this situation had reinvigorated her. Walking to his side, she smirked.

"Let's take this guy down, Master."

* * *

"I want to be a Gang-Star."

Those words were the core of his being, but also a heavy burden. Could anything carry more weight than those words? The dream he held, inherited from the man he looked up to the most, he gladly carried that weight.

"To dream of becoming a gangster, you're more lost than I initially assumed." Caren Hortensia's deadpan voice echoed softly through the quiet church. Clapping her hands together, the nun looked up to the ceiling. "O' father in heaven, please guide this poor soul from his misguided path"

Ignoring her continued mockery, he headed towards the door. He gained nothing from staying here; all it did was increase his anger towards the girl. She acted like she knew everything, but what could she possibly understand about him? Everything he sacrificed to reach this point, the pain and suffering he endured?

"You're free to continue down this path, Shirou Giovanna," Caren's words cut sharply, her tone more serious than before. "But there's no future in it."

Giorno held the same ideals, they were what made him so strong, but he had no future? Was she saying he couldn't do it, that he wasn't as strong as Giorno? He knew that already, they were leagues apart in strength.

"Maybe so, but it's all I can do." Shirou's hand closed around the handle to the door, his body hesitating to open it. As soon as he stepped out of this church, it truly began, the Holy Grail War. "I am a member of Passione, an officer; I have no choice but to become a Gang-Star!"

Shirou gritted his teeth in frustration, attempting to stop himself from speaking. He hadn't meant to say any of that, but she had drawn it out of him before he even realized what was going on.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅！"

An inhuman roar thundered through the church, followed by a powerful shockwave that felt almost like an earthquake. A feeling of dread washed over Shirou, instantly understanding the cause of such an event. Throwing the door opening without another word, Shirou rushed out into the night.

Left standing alone in the church, Caren Hortensia turned and slowly walked down the aisle, a downcast expression painted on her face.

"You may be able to endure for now, but can you overcome the 'contradiction' of your dream, Shirou Giovanna?"

But the teenage boy didn't hear her words, his charge having already carried him far away from the church. He ran with incredible speed, perhaps even faster than his retreat from Bazett earlier that night.

A silver flash caught his attention from the corner of his eye, moving so fast that he barely had time to react. A blade formed in his hand, meeting the surprise attack head on. Countless metal wires wrapped around his sword, threatening to ensnare his body along with it.

Abandoning his sword, Shirou jumped back, A new blade appearing is his outstretched hand. It was a sword he was highly familiar with, the katana wielded by his kenpo instructor, Taka Taniguchi. Of course it wasn't actually her blade, merely a reflection of it, but it was such a perfect replica you wouldn't be able to tell the difference at first glance.

The wires shifted, assuming the form of a eagle before flying off. Shirou's eyes traced the constructs path, finally locating the owner of the magecraft. Landing on the outstretched arm of a young girl with pristine white skin and hair, Shirou almost assumed they were a Servant themselves from their inhuman beauty. But they didn't give off that same sense of danger, no, they were no Servant.

"Another enemy already? Merda, give me a break." Shirou assumed a traditional Japanese sword stance, obviously not taking her lightly despite her young appearance.

"Shirou… _Giovanna_, right?" The girl smiled, brashly staring towards him. She was most likely a Master in the war, and thus a powerful Magus, so her confidence was likely well earned. Without knowing her skills, he couldn't make any move without taking a serious risk.

"So you know who I am, I guess I'm at a disadvantage." Shirou's grip tightened around his blade, not sure what to do next. Did he wait for her to attack, to gauge her strength? Or did he risk everything on a quick rush while she had her guard down? "I'm afraid I don't know you, I don't pay much attention to the magic world after all."

"Illyasviel, Illyasviel von Einzbern." The girl's eyes narrowed smugly, as if her name itself should have caused him to back down. "Even you should know the significance of that name, right?"

"Never heard of it." Shirou had of course heard of them, one of the three founding families of the war, an old bloodline of German Mages. But that was all meaningless to him, family standing in the magical world held no bearing on his viewpoint. "I'm shocked you know the name of a lowly gang member from such a backwater country, I'm flattered."

"Well, it's not like _you're_ really the one I cared about, you know?"

Shirou's eyes widened somewhat, a sudden thought crossing his mind. Giorno was involved in the previous war, though he never shared the details of it with him. If he was a Master, or some sort of third party, it was very possible he had done something to anger the Einzbern family back then.

"Sorry to disappoint you, you'll just have to make do."

Shirou launched forward without warning, his honed movements not telegraphing his actions at all. From the shocked expression on the Einzbern girl he had succeeded in catching her off guard. If he could defeat her here, whatever Servant she had would stand no chance against Mordred!

"..!"

Silver wires wrapped around his feet, stopping his charge. The mass of metallic strings writhed almost as it was alive. So her first construct wasn't her only one, a dangerous miscalculation on his part. The bird-shaped wire construct on her arm changed shape, becoming a sword like spike.

"A useless Master for a useless Servant, once you die here my Berserker will take your knight's life." The girl laughed, her voice far too sadistic for her childlike appearance. "I wonder what _he'll_ think when he sees your head on a spike?"

This girl was a serious monster, the malice pouring out of her was more than any human should possess; what had Giorno done to her family in the previous war to deserve this much hatred? The blade-like wire-form flew towards Shirou's immobilized form, he couldn't dodge it, so he just had to deflect it!

"Unlimited Blade Works!"

A steel fist intercepted the wires, smashing the construct apart with an overwhelming blow. Floating in the air before him was his Stand, the ultimate expression of his inner strength. With a quick swipe of its bladed left hand, Shirou was freed from the bindings that held him in place.

"Sorry, I don't have time to play with you right now!" Rushing towards the sounds of his Servant's battle, Shirou ignored the girl. He wouldn't hesitate to kill her if he had to, but it didn't feel like it was his battle to fight. And from the way things seemed, Mordred needed his full attention.

"Ggakk!" a strange primal sound escaped his lips. A silver wire stuck out of his right forearm, piercing him from behind. He hadn't even noticed it coming; it was way faster than before!

The wire twisted around his arm, easily yanking him off the ground. Dragged backwards like a hooked fish, Shirou summoned his Stand again, trying to cut himself loose. But the wire in his arm was defended by several others, each strand moving independently to deflect his attacks.

Illya raised her hands like a puppeteer, the wire form lifting Shirou off the ground once again. A glint of metal by her fingers caught his eye, giving him just the solution he needed to get out of this mess.

Unlimited Blade Works reached out, taking hold of one of the various wires attacking Shirou. The constructs might have seemed like they were independent at first glance, but he would bet anything that she had to maintain contact with them in some way! With a sharp tug, his stand pulled on the wire.

"w-wa?!"

The girl was thrown from her position, flying through the air towards Shirou. Her control of the wires faltered, dropping Shirou to the ground. Pulling back his free hand, the young Gang-Star in training struck the tiny girl with a powerful hook. Putting all of his body weight behind it, Shirou punched through, his motion not stopping after the initial impact.

Illyasviel von Einzbern's body landed limply against a tree trunk, showing no signs of standing back up any time soon. Shirou took the wires around his arm in one hand, pulling them free from his body without even wincing from the pain. Picking up the katana he had made before, he ran towards his Servant once more.

Perhaps he would regret leaving that girl alive in the future, but he had no reason to kill her now. Every second he wasted here might cost Mordred the fight, if he could do anything to swing the balance in her favor, he would. In his current state of mind, the obvious choice of killing the Einzbern Master to weaken the Servant didn't even occur to him, he was too focused on joining the fight himself.

The giant hulking form of Berserker loomed over the struggling Mordred, Shirou's mind going blank with fear. She would definitely lose this exchange; he was just too strong of an enemy. An enemy Mordred couldn't defeat was without a doubt out of his league, but that didn't matter to him. How many enemies had he already faced that were stronger than he was? As if he could back down now!

Jumping at the Servant's back, his slashed down with his katana, the blade shattering against the giant's skin. Berserker didn't seem to even notice his attack; it was less than a bug's bite to the inhuman monster before him.

Summoning his Stand he landed next to Mordred, who hadn't noticed his arrival yet either by the looks of it. His Stand threw its arms up, grabbing the giant's blade mid swing. Blood spurted out of his wounded arm as the impact of the attack resonated through his bones; it was a miracle his body didn't break down from such strength.

"M-Master… how?" Mordred surprised voice behind him informed him that she had noticed his arrival, seems she wasn't so hurt she couldn't understand her surroundings, which was good.

"Yo, looks like you could use a hand." Shirou turned to face his Servant, holding his hand out with a smile. But she refused his hand, perhaps from her own sense of pride.

"Let's take this guy down, Master." She uttered those words as she stood up, a wave of energy flowing through her like a second wind. Maybe Shirou's close proximity had increased the flow of magical energy he provided her, or it was just a placebo from his appearance shifting the tide of battle.

"▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅！" Berserker pulled his sword back, freeing it from the grasp of Shirou's Stand.

The world itself seemed to shudder with the primal cry of the mad Servant, a sound that could sap your strength with ease. Even in the face of the inhuman monster however, Shirou refused to back down. His body was trembling with fear, but he suppressed it with nothing but his own willpower.

His Stand had stopped that monster's attack; that was an undeniable fact. He shouldn't have been able to match his strength, the power he possessed wasn't enough to stand up to Servants, but yet… something had changed. His Stand still had potential to grow, and he wouldn't give up until he had pushed that to its limit!

"I'll back you up, Saber!" Crossing his arms in front of his body, two curved scimitars appeared in his hands. He wouldn't lose here, not when his dream was so far away. So he couldn't back down, not even against such an overwhelming enemy.

"I'll gladly take your assistance, Master!" With a burst of mana, Mordred rushed past him, her longsword dragging against the ground. Almost as though the rest of the fight had never happened, she moved with an amount of strength that should have long been exhausted.

Their blades met mid strike, both blows ricocheting off into empty air. In that momentary gap, Shirou rushed in, his twin swords breaking harmlessly against the armor-like skin of the demigod. But he caught the beast's attention, and the enraged hero aimed his next strike at him.

Shirou jumped back from the attack, his stand forming next to him. He needed a weapon strong enough to penetrate that monster's skin, and his normal swords weren't cutting it. The first image he thought of was the brilliantly shining golden sword Arturia carried, but he already knew he couldn't reproduce such a thing.

Mordred traded blows with the Berserker, seemingly every bit as lost in her lust for battle as he was madness. Neither one managed to score any critical hits, but it was clear that Mordred was at a disadvantage.

If he couldn't recreate the sword of promised victory… then he would just have to make a different trump card. A red spear flashed through his racing mind, and before he knew it, it was in his Stand's possession.

Throwing it without hesitation, Shirou would unleash the full power of a Noble Phantasm against the nearly invincible enemy before them. The crimson spear flew through the air with pinpoint accuracy, a lance that wouldn't miss its target.

Berserker howled, Bringing his sword down impossibly fast against the projectile. The spear shattered in an instant, disappearing from the world as if it was never there to begin with. It was a copy sure, but he had expected, no, hoped it would carry at least some of the power of the real thing. His last hope was shattered, there no longer seemed to be any way for him to defeat this enemy.

Berserker unleashed a three hit combination blow, the first strike parrying Mordred's own. The second blow wrenched her blade from her hands, sending it spiraling away. Mordred's expression of shock from being disarmed only lasted a moment, for the third of Berserker's swings landed on its intended target, tearing through her armor with ease.

Mordred was blown away from the power of the attack, smacking against the ground limply. Soon the grass below her was stained as red as her armor, and the overconfident knight didn't move.

Shirou's chest tightened, his body telling him it was impossible to breathe. The only sound became that of his rapid heartbeat drumming incessantly against his ears. If he was incapable of fighting with Berserker, his only hope fell on her, on his own Servant. But she lost, the enemy before them was just too overpowered, it was hopeless.

But more than the looming threat of his demise, the fear the struck him wasn't just for himself. The girl he had been talking with not long ago, was lying in a puddle of her own blood in front of him. The girl who got angry when you called her cute, who wore revealing clothing despite insisting on being male, was struck down in front of him.

The burning hatred within him seemed to light a fire in his soul, he could feel a power coursing through his body unlike anything before. Charging headfirst at the enemy Servant, he summoned a sword in his hand.

Berserker's axe-sword flew past his outstretched blade, cutting deep into his body. It happened too fast for his brain to even register the pain, and before he knew it he was on the ground. His fingers twitched, but he couldn't get them to move.

"Huh?" He didn't understand what was going on; he had felt so powerful just then, so why was he lying on the ground? A heavy fog fell over his thoughts, urging him to let go of consciousness. Yeah, if he just closed his eyes right now, he wouldn't have to keep going. It was too much for him, he should just give up now.

"U-Unlimited..." Shirou gritted his teeth, trying desperately to stand. His body wasn't responding at all, maybe he was already dead, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was that right now, someone needed him to survive, to stand up. If he couldn't manage that, then she would die. "Blade…"

Berserker moved to where he had fallen, raising his axe-sword once more. He wouldn't allow him to live, but couldn't afford to die either.

"Works…"

Berserker swung down with his full power, sending the massive weapon towards him with incredible speed. The blade crashed with an impact more like a small meteor then a sword, obliterating the surrounding ground in an explosive blow.

A glint of silver against the moonlight shot towards Berserker from above, a thin dagger slicing across the giant's face. A blue fire burned brightly in the night sky, bathing the empty park with its azure radiance.

His clothing in tatters, his body bloody and barely alive, Shirou Giovanna fell through the sky. The exact means of his evasive maneuver eluded even him, for before he knew it he was in the air. Instead of a gaping wound in his torso, twisted blades meshed together like chainmail, holding his body together. Around his body, wrapped across his arms and legs were steel chains, glowing in the same ethereal manner of his Stand.

Shirou landed behind the Berserker, who quickly turned to face him. Throwing his hand forward, a blue flame erupted from his palm. A sword shot from the fire like a cannon, crashing against the giant with enough force to cause them to stagger.

"That power… that I wielded before, it was nothing but a fake." Through ragged breath Shirou spoke to the giant, though he didn't expect him to understand his words though his insanity. "I could never match _him_ with such a halfassed power."

Shirou glared intensely at the Servant, his left eye alight with azure flames like his Stand's. Sweeping his light, almost platinum blonde hair out of his face with his left hand, he drew another sword with his right.

Pain coursed through his body, his nerves screamed in agony with every movement he made. That was just the price of strength; he had learned that long ago. Berserker rushed at hi, his each step shaking the ground below them. But Shirou didn't back down, he didn't retreat from the monster in front of him.

"This is the true form of my Stand, my _realized king!"_

Their swords clashed, Shirou feeling like his arm would tear off under the force of the hit. But it remained attached, and his blade did not break. Shirou winced from the pain in his body, seemingly caused more by his own power then the damage he took before, but he pushed past it.

He deflected another of Berserker's swings, his Sword shattering. Berserker shifted his stance and throw an upwards slash, but Shirou dodged it with inhuman speed. A blade ripped through his right shoulder from within his own flesh, but he ignored it. If he lost focus for even a second, he felt as though his body would tear apart at the seams.

Berserker's massive fist crashed into him, sending him flying through the air. His mouth filled with blood, but that wouldn't stop him. He rushed back in, two new swords in his hands. He attacked with the fury of a Servant, but none of his attacks managed to reach the peerless Greek hero.

So absorbed in his anger towards Berserker, Shirou failed to notice the stirring of the same girl he wanted to protect. Standing up unsteadily, Mordred dragged herself to her feet. As a servant, any attack that wasn't a mortal wound wouldn't take long to recover from, at least partially. Recovering her sword, she turned to face the absurd situation occurring in the distance.

Knocked to the ground again, Shirou still refused to give in. The mad Servant might lack his calculating mind, but it was obvious they still retained the understanding that Shirou wasn't strong enough to go all out against. It was this fact that allowed Shirou to survive this long, but in his current state he didn't realize it yet.

"You've done enough Master; I'll take over from here!" Charging back into the battle, Mordred growled at their mutual enemy. "..!"

Pushing Mordred to the side with his violent surge of motion, Shirou rushed the Berserker. Mordred, still unsteady from her wounds, fell against the mud at their feet.

Jumping into the air, easily clearing the trees around them, a surge of energy surrounded Shirou. A red lance was in his hands, but it felt completely unlike the imitation he had produced before.

"Gae… Bolg!" With a primal cry Shirou through the spear, the weapon transforming into something beyond human comprehension. A Noble Phantasm, the pinnacle of human legend given form. Copying not just the spear's form, but even its abilities, Shirou put all of his strength into that one strike.

A massive crimson streak across the sky, the spear smashed into Berserker like a rocket. Blowing him away along with the surrounding landscape, it was undeniably the spear of Celtic myth. Standing dumbstruck at the scene before her, Mordred wasn't sure how to take what she had just seen.

Shirou didn't stop however, beginning to walk in the direction Berserker was thrown to. Mordred understood his actions somewhat, there was no way such a ridiculous Servant was out just from that, but when she looked at his appearance… there was no way they could continue.

"That's enough, Master; we've won for the time being!" Putting her hand on his shoulder, she tried to stop him, but he refused to stop walking. Clenching her fist in irritation, Mordred stuck out without thinking. Her fist slammed against her Master's face, sending him tumbling to the ground. "I said to _stop!"_

The strange air around Shirou disappeared, his body returning to that of a normal human's. The chains wrapped around him broke and faded away, and the flames that burned inside of him went out. Returning to his senses, Shirou clutched at his body, coating his hands in hot, sticky blood.

"Yeah, you're right." Pushing past the intense pain he was now aware of, Shirou stood up, falling against Mordred before he count take a single step. "Sorry, I don't think I can get home on my own."

"Yeah yeah, what a useless Master I have, really." Throwing his arm around her shoulder, Mordred smirked and turned them away from the battlefield. She wasn't in great shape at the moment either, but she refused to show her Master that side of her. But really, what had she just seen? Was that the true power of what these men had called 'Stands'? If they could do that much, maybe it wasn't a bluff when Shirou had said his Boss could defeat her?

The wounded team slowly made their way out of the park, keeping their sensed tuned for any enemies. But thankfully, nothing disturbed their agonizing trip back home.

* * *

"I can't believe you let them get away, Berserker." Crossing her arms angrily, Illyasviel berated her Servant, who offered no words of response. "To think they could take one of your lives… they might be stronger than we thought."

The giant, showing no damage from the powerful crimson lance, faded into spiritual form behind Illya in silence. The young looking Master headed out of the part, locking her hands behind her back in a childlike manner. She didn't look like someone who had just attempted to kill another human being in the slightest, and even to her it felt as though the battle had taken place in another world.

Sighing, she thought back to her fight. Did she really have the right to criticize Berserker when she herself failed at what she came to do? They had both underestimated their opponent, but it wouldn't happen a second time.

"Next time… I won't let you get away." Her tiny body shuddered, her voice becoming increasingly angered as she continued. "You'll pay for what you did... Giorno Giovanna!"

* * *

The night passed without any more conflict, giving the injured pair a chance to recover. While Giorno had repaired their physical wounds, their mental damage would take longer to heal.

Mordred had failed again, was she cursed from the start? Unable to grasp victory that floated right before her, nothing had changed since her life. She had thought this was a second chance, but was she stilled chained down by fate itself?

Her pride as a knight, as a Heroic Spirit was shattered that night. It was already a disgrace to have lost so easily, but to then be saved by her Master… how humiliating. Perhaps realizing this himself, Shirou had deftly avoided running into her the entire morning, preventing her from confronting him about his actions.

He had been reckless and stupid, why would he try to fight Berserker? His ability to charge suicidally into fights well over his level continued to astound even himself. He knew there was something fundamentally wrong with doing what he did; his sense of self preservation was warped to say the least. He would struggle his hardest to survive, but at the same time throw himself against impossible odds. This contradiction was the driving force of his being, something he couldn't change easily, if at all.

"Unlimited Blade Works!" Shirou threw his arm forward, commanding his Stand to appear. Focusing on the memories of the previous night, he tried to draw out that same power. Again and again, he called for the power that let him face down a Servant without fear, but it wouldn't come to him.

Falling to his knees against the bamboo flooring of the gang dojo, Shirou gasped for air through pained breaths. He had been at this for over three hours now, but he couldn't bring out that power, what was he missing?

How did Giorno wield such power so effortlessly? It was like he didn't have to try at all to bring out his Stand's full power, was this the difference in their experience?

Slamming his fist against the floor, Shirou rose unsteadily back to his feet. If Giorno could control his power like it was second nature… there was no reason he couldn't do the same!

"Integrate the power… take it for myself!" That was right, back then his stand didn't exist as a separate entity, it was just the power flowing through him. "Just like the Boss, just like Giorno!"

Holding his arms crossed in front of his face, Shirou summoned his Stand one last time. He was at the end of his stamina; this was the last attempt he could do now, so it had to work. A blue light flashed in his left eye, followed by the metallic glint of steel chains erupting from with his body.

The chains coiled around his Stand, binding it in place. It struggled against the chains instinctively, but was unable to break free. Pulling it back into his body, the chains reeled in his Stand. Shirou forced it to merge with his body, feeling the inhuman power beginning to flow through his veins. But the power was accompanied by pain, as if he nerves were about to rip themselves from his flesh.

A blue flame alight in his palms, Shirou summoned a Sword from within his 'forge,' the heavy weight of solid steel instantly appearing in his grip. A wave of pain shot up his left arm, but he pushed it to the back of his mind.

Shirou dashed forward, cutting clean through a sword target in the blink of an eye. His speed rivaled Giorno's, but he still lacked control. His reflexes couldn't handle the level his body was at, almost feeling like his reactions were in slow motion. That should fix itself as he got more used to it, but it was a significant weakness at the moment.

"So this is your 'Second Act,' Shirou." Giorno's voice appeared from the entrance, Shirou quickly spinning around to face him. "Do you think you're strong enough to handle this kind of strength?"

Shirou let go of his hold on his power, the chains wrapped around his body shattering and disappearing in a flash of light. The instant relief from the strain on his body threatened to overwhelm his senses, but he remained standing somehow.

"What I think I can do doesn't matter; I _have_ to master this power in order to move forward."

"If this is the answer you found, I'll accept it. But once again you've chosen to take the most difficult path, you realize that?" Giorno walked over to Shirou, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "If this is a battle you have to fight, then fight it, but don't forget who you are. You can't achieve your dream if you die, so survive no matter what."

"I'll do more than survive, I'll _win."_

"When you say it like that all of my doubts seem to wash away." Giorno turned and exited the dojo, Shirou in toe. "Come, if you don't take a break soon your training will have the opposite effect. Arturia is preparing breakfast today, so be ready."

A terror unlike what he had felt when facing down the Master of Lancer, worse than Lancer himself or even Berserker came over him. His shuddering body wanted to run, but Giorno's strong grip on his shoulder wouldn't allow him to avoid this fate.

When they entered the main building a repugnant odor assaulted their senses of smell. While she was quite the skilled warrior, Arturia's household skills were quite… lacking. Arturia's meals were already infamous among Passione, with only two members besides her able to stomach them.

"Yo, lil' Boss, already working up a sweat huh?" Slapping him on the back as soon as he entered, the first official member of the gang greeted them. Smiling, Angelo sat down at the dining table, taking a spot right next to Shirou's casually dressed Servant.

Something about this situation felt surreal, maybe it hadn't quite clicked that Mordred was now an aspect of his daily life, it's not like she would disappear until another Master attacked.

"So, you must be related to Arturia, huh?" Sweeping his hair, dyed blonde with a rather cheap home kit, Angelo leaned towards Mordred. Shirou's body tensed, he was ready to step in if she tried to kill him for what he'd just said, but the girl remained calm.

"It is… complicated," staring listlessly at the bottle of green tea in her hands, Mordred avoided eye contact with anyone in the room. "I suppose I'm h-her… niece."

Barely able to choke out those few words, Mordred turned away from Angelo, her face burning a bright crimson. Too scared to say anything, Shirou quietly sat down across from her. The three sat in awkward silence, until finally Giorno returned from the kitchen, followed shortly by Arturia.

Mordred's eyes darted over to Shirou, flashing him a look of pure desperation. Understanding her completely, He dejectedly shook his head, already knowing there was no escape.

"Oh, this looks good!" unperturbed by the horrific excuse for food in front of him, Angelo picked up a pair of chopsticks and tore into the meal. "Delicious!"

Matched only by Angelo, Arturia devoured her portion before Shirou had even built the will to eat a single bite. Giorno ate slowly, maintaining a refined atmosphere unlike the others.

Swallowing hard, Shirou picked up what appeared to have once been an egg with his chopsticks. The taste was so awful, so indescribably bad that before he knew it tears had begun to stream down his face.

The meal ended shortly, Angelo returning to his duties in the gang and Arturia going to clean the dishes they had created. Lying defeated on the floor, Mordred and Shirou could have been mistaken for deceased victims of poisoning.

"Ma-Master, does this happen often?" holding her hand over her mouth in an attempt to hold the contents of her stomach in, Mordred sat back up. "Is this how you built such mental fortitude?"

"Yeah… I guess so."

Suddenly, the trials of the Holy Grail war didn't seem so bad. Shirou would much rather take on Berserker or Lancer then go through this again. It seemed the two of them had this in common as well; the grail really had picked a suitable pair.

The second day of the Holy Grail War had begun.


	18. Chapter 17: Trust

In order to survive, one must pray on the lives of another, this cruel fact is simply the way of the world. For one person to survive, someone else had to die. This bleak reality is the anguish he lived in, eternally tormented by this fact.

He wanted nothing more than to save others, to be a superhero capable of ridding the world of all its pain and suffering, but it was a broken desire from the start. To save one life meant to take others, and with each life he took he fell deeper into his despair.

He killed, he slaughtered, all in the name of his ideals. When had he forgotten what it felt like to be a hero? At some point the killing had become second nature to him, the logical course of action. If he could save ten by killing one, was that not the correct choice?

He thought so, which is why when he had the chance to sacrifice himself to save countless others, it was only logical that he do it. He sold his soul to the world for the strength to protect everyone, an action that should have made him a hero. But they shunned him, betrayed him. At the hands of the very people he saved he was killed as a traitor, but still he died with a smile on his face. He had saved them, that was all that mattered he thought.

Until the full weight of his actions became apparent. Summoned into the world endlessly by the Counter Force, he suffered again and again. He was sent into hell itself with one purpose, to kill. It was an inescapable nightmare for the man who fancied himself a hero of justice. How could this endless slaughter be justice? It couldn't be, he wouldn't accept that. Had his ideals been wrong? Were they wrong from the start?

But now, he finally had a chance to be rid of this torture. The Holy Grail war was his salvation, the last hope of a broken man. He could escape this cycle of killing if he played his cards right, but he had already hit a roadblock.

The one he needed to find was not here, had he been summoned into a world so much different from his own? He understand that the throne of heroes existed outside of the human understanding of time and space, so it was possible the counter force did as well. But if this world was so different from his, how was it possible he was even summoned?

"-cher, Archer!" are you even listening?" the voice of a young girl, his Master, cut through his thoughts. Pulling him back from his thoughts of the past, Archer's attention focused on the girl in front of him.

"Yeah yeah, find the source of these mysterious comas and stop it, right?" Archer crossed his arms, his posture showing hints of agitation. "It's either the work of a desperate Master, or a rogue Servant, my guess is on the latter."

Things were different from how he remembered them, and his memories of the war were fuzzy at best, but he still remembered _her._ The Servant of magic, Caster, how could he forget someone like her? He already knew very well what she was capable of, but none of that mattered to him, she wasn't his goal.

"Say, Rin…" Relaxing his body a bit, Archer fell into step behind Rin as they walked through the dark streets of Fuyuki, the town having long gone to sleep around them. "This Shirou Giovanna you had me follow, what do you know about him?"

It didn't seem possible, but there were no other leads. They seemed to fill the role _he_ should have been in, so perhaps… how could he be a bleached blonde punk in this universe? The idea sounded ridiculous when he thought it, but he wasn't about to ignore the possibility.

"Hmm? What makes you want to know about that, Archer? You haven't shown much interest in him until now."

"After what he showed off last night… let's just say I'm intrigued." Archer had to choose his words carefully, there were things he just couldn't tell Rin, no matter what. "His abilities seem quite… strange."

"Hearing that from a Servant isn't very comforting you know?" Rin paused, pulling an ornate compass from her jacket and holding it out in front of her face. "If a legendary hero hasn't seen a power like his, then what am I supposed to do abou- A-Archer!"

Rin's sudden shock raised every warning bell in his mind, his swords quickly appearing in his hands. Rin stared at the compass in her hand, the directional needle spinning wildly out of control.

Archer's sword cut through the air, smashing into an unseen foe in the darkness. A creature made entirely of bones fell to the ground in pieces, but was quickly replaced by another. Archer's swords danced in a perfectly honed fighting style; it fit his body as naturally as his own flesh. Each swing of his blades felled another construct, but their numbers didn't seem to be decreasing.

"So it was Caster's doing, I should have known." Rin pulled a ruby from her pocket, hurling it into the sea of bone constructs. The gem exploded in a concentrated burst of mana, annihilating the golems.

"Tch, these guys aren't much on their own, but there's too damned many of them." Archer scowled as he cut down another creature, only for it to be replaced by two more. "Rin, we should escape, we're only wasting our strength here."

Though, with the amount of enemies around them that was far easier said than done. He'd like to be able to deny it, but they were unfortunately, surrounded. He remembered these things, warrior golems crafted from dragon's teeth, Caster's main fighting force.

"Unlimited Blade Works!" A cry shot through the scene like a flash of lightning, a rain of blades showering the Dragon Tooth Warriors with daggers and other short blades. Landing amidst the destruction, Shirou Giovanna swept his blond hair back with one hand while holding the other against his chest; his legs spread wide and his upper body twisted to the side. "Merda, you just can't seem to keep yourself out of trouble, Rin."

Shirou ignored the frozen stares of disbelief on Rin and Archer's faces, not aware that the shock was directed more towards his outlandish entrance then anything else. Archer was hit harder, for he knew what he had just heard this ridiculous boy say. Those words, only one person in this time should know those words, and it was Archer himself.

Like a raging bull, the Servant of the sword smashed her way into the scene in full armor, her violent thrashing sending the dragon tooth warriors flying like cheap toys. With a charge, Mordred gored one warrior on the horns of her helmet, throwing it off into another with the swing of her body.

"These aren't even enough to make me work up a sweat, is Caster even trying?" Boasting confidently, Mordred failed to see one of the constructs approach her from behind until it was too late, she didn't have time to dodge it.

From atop a nearby wooden fence dividing the road from the row of houses behind them, a third new figure dove in. Falling in an elbow drop against the warrior golem, they smashed it into the ground.

"Are ya paying attention or what, Saber?" Jumping to their feet nimbly, a playful voice escaped the girl's lips. Shaking her short messy orange hair out of her face, the young girl clenched her fists at her sides. "You shoulda' been able to handle that one yourself!"

Licking her lips, the strange girl threw herself at another dragon tooth warrior with an almost animalistic savagery. Wrapping her arms around it, she lifted it with inhuman strength over her head, smashing it into the ground behind her.

"A Suplex?!" Rin's eyes twitched at the sight, having completely lost track of what was going on. Shirou she knew of course, but why was he here? And this swordsman with him must be Saber, his Servant. But this weird girl, who the hell was she? Not an ordinary human no doubt, if she was hanging around such bizarre company.

Shirou's Stand blazed brightly, blades shooting out from its body in every direction, skewering over a dozen dragon tooth warriors. The Crimson Saber made easy work of her own targets, soon standing atop a pile of broken bones with a satisfied pose. And while the other, mysterious girl hadn't taken out nearly as many as those two, the fact she could defeat any at all with… wrestling moves was bizarre enough in it's own right.

The remaining few golems scattered and escaped the scene. Caster had obviously determined that continuing was just a waste of resources after this turn. Dismissing his Stand, Shirou walked towards Rin with no outward hostility. Despite this, Archer jumped between them, lowering his blade against Shirou's neck without hesitation.

"Don't get any closer to my Master, _boy._" Archer's voice was filled with a malice Shirou felt was undeserved, but he couldn't argue with the situation, backing off from the defensive Servant.

"Shirou, what exactly do you think you're doing?" Rin pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, how dense was this guy? "You should know by now that I'm a Master in the same battle as you, I'm your _enemy_. So why, why do you keep helping me?"

"Isn't it natural to help your friends when they're in trouble?" Shirou cocked his head to the side, confused. 'That's what the Boss taught me, anyways."

"F-Friends..?" Rin wasn't sure how to respond to this, leaving her stunned for a moment. "A-Anyway, we're enemies now, you can't just keep acting like nothing's changed, that's a good way to get yourself killed."

"I'm prepared to do what I have to, but I'd really rather not fight you, not yet anyways." Rubbing the back of his neck, Shirou rolled his shoulders back. "Especially if we have the same goal, shouldn't' we work together?"

"What goal is that exactly? Only one team can win the Grail, you know that right?"

"You're lookin into those people who keep falling into comas mysteriously, the 'gas leak' incidents, right?" Chiming in from behind Shirou, a wild looking redhead hopped out of his Shadow with her hands behind her head. "That's why we're here too, ya know?"

"The Boss suspected these accidents were being caused by a Servant, looks like he was right on the money, as usual." Shirou sighed, his eyes falling to the ground at his feet. "Fighting the other Masters and Servants, I can understand that. But this is just… how can Caster's Master allow them to do this?"

Unable to continue the conversation until she knew the truth, Rin's gaze locked on the mysterious girl. The redhead's amber eyes almost seemed golden in the night's gloom. The girl looked at Rin, a menacing aura seeming to spread out from behind her.

"Shirou, who… who is this?" Rin's voice came out a bit harsher than she intended it to, but there was no going back, she had to know something, anything about this person.

"My subordinate."

His blunt, concise reply did nothing to answer her question, was he dodging it intentionally? The redheaded girl swayed back and forth playfully, the loose end of a long belt around her waist dancing almost like a tail. The girl wore an open long coat that was an even brighter orange than her hair, several shimmering, reflective metal hearts stitched into it. Under the coat nothing but a white sports bra covered her chest, a small purple bow attached to it on the right side. As for her legs, she had on a pair of dark green army fatigues, but the left leg has been cut off high on her thigh, that leg covered by a bright white stocking.

Rin would never get over the strange fashion sense of those involved in the gang that had taken root in her city, Passione. It was as if they dressed in the most insane way possible, just to stand out. With that in mind it was fairly clear that this girl was part of said gang, but as far as she knew the majority of its members were not supernaturally gifted. So the strength she showed, was that just trained human ability?

"Yes, I'm the young Boss's first subordinate and Passione initiate! Tatsuki is at your service, nice to meet ya!" the redhead gave Rin a two fingered salute before skipping away towards the crimson swordsman. "And this is Saber, the young Boss's Servant in this Holy Grail thing, I don't really get it but they're like, super strong!"

"I can't believe you, Shirou Giovanna… you would bring a civilian into this war?" Rin crossed her arms, turning away from the strange trio before her. "That's very irresponsible of you."

"Anyone in this city is involved, even if they don't know it, how does this make us any different, _founding family."_

His words cut to the core of the existence that was Rin Tohsaka. The haunting past of her family, the history of disaster her ancestors had started, it was her weight to carry. Rin's body began to tremble, but she tried not to show her distress on her face.

"The safety of the populous is my duty; I'll defeat Caster, and anyone else who threatens the peace of the citizens of _my city._" Rin turned back to face Shirou, a new determination flaring in her eyes. "If you truly care about the people, you'll stay out of my way until I've finished, we can settle our differences another time."

"Fine with me, I'm more concerned about Misaya right now anyways…" Shirou stretched his arms out behind his back, turning to leave. Pausing, he glanced back towards Rin. "Don't die until then, that's an order."

"I'm not about to take orders from someone like you, but of course I won't die." Rin's long twin hair tails flipped through the air with the speed she turned around, walking off into the distance. "Let's go, Archer, there might still be more of those golems around."

Rin gritted her teeth, resisting the waves of self loathing that threatened to overwhelm her. If only she had been stronger, she might have been able to stop this war from happening. Every life lost now was her responsibility, she had to make this madness stop.

The Holy Grail War would end with her generation, no matter what she had to do.

* * *

Shirou Giovanna, despite being a high ranking member of a gang, and having a delinquent appearance, had never missed a day of school since he started. That however was about to change, for he wasn't foolish enough to go towards the location of multiple enemies.

Rin and Misaya were both Masters, and there was the matter of Shinji as well. Mordred refused to go into spiritual form, so he couldn't bring her with him. Left with no other options, Shirou decided to break his perfect attendance record and stay home that day.

This worked perfectly for Giorno's own plans for the boy, for he had called him out to the dojo soon after he made the choice to remain at the estate.

"Shirou, since I've made you an officer, I haven't given you any more responsibility in the gang until now." Stopping outside of the dojo, Giorno turned to face him. "You may be thinking that this is a terrible time for me to ask this of you, but I believe it can be of benefit to you."

Not sure what Giorno was going to ask of him, Shirou hesitantly entered the dojo, followed shortly by Giorno.

A larger than usual crowd filled the outbuilding, various familiar faces lining the walls. In the center of the room stood several individuals Shirou didn't recognize, though through context they could only be one thing.

"New recruits huh, is this about the responsibility you were talking about?" Turning his head to the side, Shirou looked over to his mentor figure, but Giorno simply stared off into the sea of new faces.

"Passione is not a gang that just anyone can join, you should be aware of that already." Finally speaking, Giorno walked up to the head of the group of recruits, turning to face Shirou. "These men and women gathered here are hopefuls who wish to enter our ranks, and that's where you come in. It should be a simple task for you to test their mettle, yes?"

Stretching his arms out in front of him with a smile, Shirou walked up to the group. If that was all he had to do there was nothing to worry about, he could handle any fight against a human opponent. Catching a bamboo shinai thrown to him by one of the other gang members, Shirou looked over the group.

They were wholly unremarkable; the majority of the faces belonging to men with an average build at best. Only a few individuals stood out to him. One, a massive brick of a man with wild spiked hair dyed bright pink. He was easily twice the size of the others, almost reminding Shirou of the inhuman figure of Berserker. The next that stood out was a teenage boy around his own age, with incredibly pale skin and bags under his eyes that made him look rather eerily like a corpse.

But above those two was the most out of place face of them all. Grinning stupidly and bouncing back and forth with an explosive, boundless energy… was a young girl. Her short messy orange hair would have been enough to stand out in the crowd, but her attitude increased it exponentially. She didn't look like a candidate trying to enter a serious organized gang of criminals, seeming more like a kid playing around. Glancing over to Giorno, Shirou thought the elder Giovanna was staring intently at her, but he couldn't tell for sure.

Gesturing to the three to come to him, they quickly left the crowd. Looking over the first man more closely only made him seem even larger and imposing than before. The second slouched over with a bored expression on his face, his hands in the pockets of a school jacket that didn't match any of Fuyuki's; was he from out of town?

"Hmph, some kid's gonna test _me?_ What a joke." Cracking his knuckles, the giant of a man stepped in front of the other two. "Name's Boris, don't be crying to me when you end up with a few broken bones."

"Going to face me barehanded? I like your confidence, but don't think it'll be that easy!" Shirou's body tensed up, shifting into a sword stance. But he didn't attack, the teen waiting for his opponent to make a move first. "Good luck to you… Boris."

"Don't insult me; this will be over in an instant!" With a roar that bared a set of sharp, almost shark like teeth, Boris charged in.

His enormous fists, both almost the size of Shirou's head flew at him in a furious barrage of attacks. Grinning, Boris relaxed at the end of his assault, not thinking anyone able to withstand it. But before he had a chance to see the result of his attacks the heavy weight of a sword blow struck him in the staunch, passing through his open defenses easily.

Shirou strode past the downed Boris, who had quickly fallen to the tatami mat flooring in pain. Loosely dangling the shinai in his hands between his fingers, he looked over his shoulder with a cold expression reminiscent of Giorno's.

"You were right, it really was over in an instant." Looking back towards the remaining two, they appeared unfazed by his swift victory over the bear sized man. "Who wants next?"

Lurching over like a reanimated corpse, the second opponent took center stage. Unlike Boris however he chose to come armed, carrying with him a short steel pipe. He locked eyes with Shirou, the Gang-Star in training unable to feel any emotion from him at all, less so than even Giorno.

"Call me… Kumagawa, I suppose." The lack of enthusiasm in his voice was a complete contrast with the hot blooded boasts of his previous opponent. This guy didn't feel like he actually wanted to be there to Shirou, but he had stepped forward anyways. "Regardless of the end result, I hope we can remain friends."

A statement that sounded strange coming from such a listless man, Shirou raised his sword towards him. The aura this Kumagawa gave off was much more dangerous than that of Boris, he couldn't afford to take this enemy lightly.

"Alright, bring it o- woah!" before he could finish speaking, Kumagawa had rushed in, swinging his metal pipe like a short-sword. Shirou parried the attack, shifting his stance to deflect it away.

Kumagawa's body twisted unnaturally, launching a counterattack from a position where he should by all rights have zero balance. His bizarre movements threw Shirou off, how was he twisting himself like that. Finally, after avoiding and blocking around a dozen blows he realized the answer.

"Double jointed huh? Nice trick, but it's not enough!" Throwing out his hand, Shirou caught the teen's pipe mid swing, easily twisting it out of his hand before slamming the hilt of his shinai against his body. Kumagawa crumpled to the mat, Shirou's attack having knocked the breath from his lungs.

"Oooh! You're really, really strong!" a cheerful feminine voice rang out behind him. Jumping up and down excitedly, the energetic girl dashed out in front of him. The girl's wide grin revealed a cutely oversized canine tooth, almost like a fang. "Is it my turn now, is it finally Tatsuki's time to shine?!"

Shirou didn't think much of the girl in front of him, sure she had a lot of energy, but he didn't feel anything special from her. Compared to the first two, she barely registered as threat to his honed instincts. So why had he picked her to go against? Was it really just because she stood out more then the rest? He hoped he wasn't being so vain in his selection, but it was too late now.

"Ey Shirou, give that girl hell for me will ya!" Calling out from behind him, Shirou turned to see Angelo leaning against the wall, a noticeable bruise under his left eye. "She's a lot tougher than she looks, don't hold back just cause she's cute!"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to make that kind of misstep." Shirou shook his head and turned back to the girl in front of him. Angelo might not be the strongest member of Passione, but if she could best him… Nah, Angelo must have made a mistake, he wasn't good at fighting women. "Barehanded again… I hope you're a bit better than Boris."

Clenching her fists in a traditional karate pose she smiled even wider than previously before throwing her right arm straight out across her chest in a dramatic fashion. It reminded him a superhero television program he had watched when he was younger, but that was probably a coincidence.

"Yes, Tatsuki will give it her best shot and become a member of Passion!"

Her mispronunciation of the gang's Italian name reminded Shirou of a certain blue haired magus, the recollection of the collapse of their friendship causing a pang of regret in his heart. But Shirou was a professional with a job to do, so he quickly pushed that feeling aside.

Tatsuki charged forward with lightning speed, far exceeding that of Kumagawa's. Her hands and feet lashed out in a series of strikes of various forms, not showing a unified combat style between them. Shirou swung his shinai, but the attack was deflected by a powerful kick that robbed him of possession of the blade.

Tatsuki threw an uppercut aimed for his chin, likely thinking he was defenseless without his sword. But Shirou twisted his upper body to the side, evading the blow narrowly. He threw his own punch, but the attack only managed to graze the girl.

The two exchanged blows again, neither gaining the upper hand. Despite her innocent, non threatening aura… this girl was strong. He couldn't get an edge against her with his fists alone; he needed to recover his sword.

Stepping into a powerful body blow, Tatsuki's fist flew towards Shirou with incredible strength and speed. Shirou couldn't dodge it in time, and before he realized it he instinctively summoned his Stand. Thrusting its right fist forward, Unlimited Blade Works moved to counter the young girl's punch.

Tatsuki's attack halted, not because she was struck by his Stand's attack, but because she had _dodged it._ It was impossible, how could a human have the reflexes to do something like that. More importantly though, if she could avoid his Stand…

"Y-You can see… my UBW?!" Shirou's thoughts barely had time to make this connection before the impact of one of Tatsuki's high kicks sent a shockwave through his brain as it smashed into his skull. His vision turning black, Shirou hit the floor.

An hour after this defeat Shirou was sitting on the roof of the storeroom, avoiding contact with anyone else. He had ignored the possibly of them possessing supernatural abilities, what a foolish mistake. He couldn't bring himself to face the rest of the gang, not after such a pathetic showing against a new recruit.

The gang primarily consisted of normal men, but there were those with powers and connections with the magical underworld; of course it wasn't impossible for her to have been one. And if Giorno had Shirou going up against them… how could he have been so blind?

"So this is where you got off to, Shirou." Suddenly, Giorno made his presence known, sitting down next to the teen. "You might be feeling as if you failed, but this was exactly the result I hoped for."

"What are you talking about; you wanted me to lose to some newbie?" Shirou cocked his head to the side, confused. "Won't this damage the gang's reputation, one of the captains losing so easily?"

"All of those candidates… had already passed." Giorno placed his hand on Shirou's head in a rare moment of affection he only showed to a few individuals. "You didn't lose against an unproven outsider. In fact, defeating Kumagawa and Boris so easily surprised even me; they could all hold their own against the other captains."

"Wait… then what was I testing them for if they already passed?" Shirou couldn't help but feel as if Giorno was pulling an elaborate ruse on him, but for what reason he didn't know.

"I mentioned responsibilities in the gang before, yes?" Giorno stood up, walking to the edge of the roof. Turning his head towards Shirou, his stone like expression "I had to be sure they could keep up with you, if they were going to be any use in the coming trials you face."

"What are you suggesting, Boss?"

"Congratulations Shirou, you're now in charge of your first direct subordinate."

"W-Wait, isn't this a bit reckless?!" Hopping to his feet, Shirou's wide eyes stared at Giorno's unchanging expression. "I'm a Master right now, I don't want to get anyone unrelated dragged into this and I'm sure you don't either, so why?"

"If you don't want her to get involved, then so be it. It's up to you how you use the assets at your disposal. But as a captain of Passione and a Master at the same time, I thought you could use some additional help. At the minimum, she can serve as your proxy in gang business should you be busy with the war."

Shirou really didn't want to bring in outsiders to his fight, but Giorno had an undeniable point. And part of him really wanted to have an underling in the gang; even Angelo had his own squad under his direct command.

"I understand, I accept." Placing his hands in his pockets, Shirou walked over to the edge of the roof. "Not like I have much choice in the matter, not when you're involved."

Lightly hopping off the roof, Shirou landed smoothly on the ground below, soon followed by Giorno. Thinking of the Holy Grail War in relation to this new development, he looked over at his boss with a puzzled expression.

"Hold on, how much does the gang know about the war?"

When it came to supernatural dealings Giorno tended to handle them himself, but Shirou knew the main captains were aware of magic to some degree. Giorno was also known somewhat in the magical side of the world as a powerful psychic ability wielder. There was a rumor Shirou found amusing that Giorno was actually a demon slayer posing as a gang leader, but as far as he knew Giorno had never faced an actual demon.

"The gang? Not much really, but these particular candidates were briefed somewhat. And now that I've made my selection, Tatsuki has been given the full rundown by our _resident expert_."

Something about the way he said that last part worried Shirou, he couldn't mean… A wave of terror washed over him as he looked to the Boss, but his expression gave nothing away.

Shirou ran into the main building of the estate, coming across his Servant Mordred, locked in a fierce arm wrestling match with his new subordinate. It seemed whatever lesson she was giving Tatsuki on the Holy Grail War had ended long ago, and by the many discarded cans around them had devolved into drinking rather quickly. Ignoring the fact that both looked under the requisite drinking age, he could only imagine the trouble he was in with these two beside him.

"I hope you thought this through… Giorno."

* * *

A fierce battle between two titanic strengths thundered within the Giovanna estate. The audience could do nothing but stand in awe of the raw power the two exhibited. The Servant of the sword, Saber, gritted her teeth, throwing as much of her muscle into her efforts. But the enemy's arm didn't waver, their intertwined hands remaining stationary.

That there could be one who could match her to this level… and that they were no heroic spirit, she could hardly believe it. But the vigor possessed by the redhead before her seemed anything but ordinary, what on earth was she?

"You did well, Saber, but it's time to end this!" The redheaded girl's eyes glowed with a primal fierceness, her body shifting in anticipation for her next attack. Slowly but surely Mordred's arm gave way, the bizarre girl slamming it against the table with a loud crash. "Yatta! I can't believe I defeated Saber again, am I really that awesome?"

Observing the contest from the side, Shirou had to resist the urge to groan. He hadn't expected to come in to find his Servant arm wrestling with his new subordinate in Passione, but he had expected this outcome even less. She was able to overpower even a heroic spirit, just how strong was she?

Of course, Tatsuki had bested him as well, but that was largely due to his own overconfidence. Giorno had tried to instill in Shirou his own calculating, calm mannerisms, but he still had the bad habit of slipping into an overly cocky attitude.

This habit also caused him to take on far more than he could handle, as evidenced by his suicidal attempts to fight Servants on his own. While she hadn't said anything outright to him, Shirou suspected these actions had put a strain on his relationship with Mordred. She was a knight sworn to fight for him, and he had ignored her existence almost entirely against berserker. While he hadn't intended to belittle her skill, it was the unfortunate result.

The two girls had not shown any acknowledgement of his presence since he had arrived, both far more occupied with their competition. The young captain strode over to the table they sat beside, hands loosely resting in his pockets.

The air around the table was thick with a malice that could only be emitted by one source. Mordred's expression twisted into a quite terrifying smirk, her eyes bulging dangerously wide as she glared at the girl across from her, who behaved as though she couldn't perceive any peril in her current actions.

"Again, I won't lose to someone like you again; I've determined your limits now!" Raising her pen hand out in front of her, Mordred tried to initiate another round of the contest, but Tatsuki showed no sign of obliging her.

"I would, but do you really want to lose a _fourth _time? And in front of your Master too, are you sure?"

Mordred's body tensed up, finally realizing Shirou was present. Turning around to face him, she tried to look him in the eye, but her gaze averted at the last second. She wasn't acting like her normal haughty self; perhaps her body was reacting to the alcohol in her system, if that was even possible for a Servant?

"Tatsuki…" Shirou looked towards his new subordinate, a strange feeling filling his body. He had never had command of another member of the gang before, and unlike his partnership with Mordred he wasn't sure how to proceed.

"Hai! Tatsuki is ready to serve, what are your orders, Boss?" Giving Shirou a bizarre salute, Tatsuki ran over to him like an excited puppy. For whatever reason she chose to address him primarily in English, but with a few Japanese words scattered through her sentence. While most of the gang chose to converse in English or Italian, it was obvious she wasn't very good at it. "Just point me in the direction of the enemy Boss; I'll kick the teeth out of their ugly mugs for ya!"

Shirou couldn't help but notice Mordred's expression darken; did she feel like she was being replaced by Tatsuki? Sure she was pretty strong, but there was no way she could face a Servant in an actual fight, right? Shirou moved closer to her, but the Servant stepped away from him each time he approached.

Shirou reached his hand out towards Mordred, unsure what words he could say to alleviate whatever was bothering her. A flash of anger across Mordred's face made him freeze in place. The Servant slapped his hand away from her, turning away from him and slowly walking out of the room.

"It seems I'm not needed at the moment, so I shall retire until an enemy shows themselves. That is, if you even _need me_ to fight them, Master."

Shirou would have followed her, but he was interrupted by an annoyingly peppy redhead. Didn't she know how to read the mood of a room? Perhaps it was for the best; he would have more luck with her after she sobered up no doubt. Before then however, he had more pressing issues involving a certain redhead.

"Hey, aren't you bothered to be working under someone… that you defeated?" Turning back to Tatsuki, he asked the first question on his mind. The hierarchy of Passione more than other gangs was based upon individual strength, it was unheard of for one to work under someone weaker than they were. "You're so strong; you could probably be a captain in your own right."

"Ehh? Do you really think I'm that strong? I just got lucky against you ya know?" Throwing a few shadow punches out in front of her, Tatsuki weaved around in a recreation of her fight with Shirou. "If you knew I could see your punch ghost thing I'm sure you would have won. And Saber was holding back in all of our matches, if she was serious she could have easily won!"

Shirou felt like the girl was hiding something, but he had no way of proving it. Unless she showed off a power greater than what had had already, he would have to believe her. But he couldn't shake the feeling he was being deceived, so he would keep his eye on her.

But at the same time, his hesitation to involve her in this battle royale he got involved in was fading fast. She seemed strong enough to follow him in a fight at least, her personality was another thing entirely however.

"Get some rest, Tatsuki. There's some time yet before we have anything to do, the other Masters won't act during the day." Walking out of the room without waiting for a response, Shirou headed for his own room. Falling into his western style bed, the mental fatigue that had been building up finally managed to catch him, and he quickly fell asleep.

* * *

By the time Shirou had awakened from his impromptu slumber night had already fallen outside. The gloom cast across his room by the open window matched his emotional state all too well, as he remembered what he had to do next. If nothing else, he had to apologize to his Servant for the way he acted.

The halls of the Giovanna estate were deathly silent as he left his bedroom, there being no signs of activity from any of the normally present gang members. It wasn't too surprising a sight, the estate seemed to be empty more then filled as of a late. Shirou couldn't help but feel a slight pang of depression at that thought, it seemed as though he grew farther and farther away from them the more he stepped into the world of magi.

Making his way to the spare bedroom that Mordred had claimed as her own on the first night of her summoning, Shirou began to plan how best to handle the coming confrontation. He wondered for a moment if the other Masters had the same trouble dealing with their Servants, or if he was simply unlucky for summoning such a temperamental one.

Pausing outside of her door, Shirou took a deep breath and entered his more calculating state of mind. It wasn't nearly as effective as Giorno's, and he had trouble maintaining composure, but he should be able to handle a simple conversation. Rapping his knuckles against the door, Shirou waited for a response.

The door, not completely shut from before, creaked open. The lack of response worried him, had she perhaps abandoned him? She had already shown that she was willing to walk away from her Master if she was dissatisfied, so it wasn't impossible. Pushing his way into the room his concerns vanished as he saw his Servant sleeping soundly inside.

Hugging a pillow close to her chest, Mordred's expression was the most gentle he had even seen on her. All of her defenses were down, and she now appeared just like an ordinary girl. Shirou's heartbeat noticeably quickened, what was this feeling? He had gotten involved with several women, mostly thanks to Shinji's influence, and while he had experienced attraction towards them nothing compared to what he felt in this moment.

Wait, what the hell was he thinking about right now? He had come to repair their working relationship, and considering how much she disliked being referred to as a woman this line of thinking could only lead to trouble. Trying to force the thoughts out of his mind Shirou shook his head back and forth, but it only managed to make him somewhat dizzy.

At that moment, Mordred stirred. Shirou's body froze in place, suddenly feeling like he had just stepped into a wild lion's den. Coming into her room without asking and then gawking at her as she slept… she'd probably kill him for far less. Stretching her arms out with her fingers intertwined and arching her back, Mordred let out a cute yawn. Blinking a few times, she listlessly gazed around the room, finally catching sight of Shirou standing awkwardly in the doorframe.

How would Giorno handle this situation? Shirou's mind raced for a way to avoid the bad end looming over him, using the man he modeled himself after as the blueprint for his plan.

"Finally awake, belladonna?" Placing his right hand on his hip and brushing his hair back with his left; Shirou twisted his upper body to the side. To Shirou, striking poses was a means of controlling his emotions; they granted him fortitude closer to that of Giorno's steel resolve. "You wouldn't want to sleep through the war now, would you?"

Climbing out of her bed, the blanket wrapped around Mordred's body fell off, revealing that the Servant of the sword chose to sleep in nothing but her undergarments. For someone who wished to avoid the topic of gender, they were strangely fine with showing off their body.

"A-Anyway, before we proceed with the next stage of the war, there's something we should discuss." Shirou, suddenly painfully aware of the fact he was alone in a girl's bedroom with said underdressed girl almost lost control of his calculating façade. "During our encounter with Berserker, I was out of line, Mordred."

"Master, I would refrain from uttering _that name_ so casually." Her glare was like daggers floating in front of her, waiting to cut through him at a moment's notice. Such hostility, was that really such a big deal?

"Avoiding using your true name in public is one thing, but as you can see, we are quite alone." Stretching his arms out for emphasis, Shirou direction her attention around the room. But her eyes continued to bore a hole through him, her expression only growing more irritated.

"No, That isn't it Master." Crossing her arms, Mordred took a single step closer to him. "Never call me by that name, or I _will_ run you through."

"Do you really despise your own name that much? I could never throw away mine; it's the proof of my own worth, of my connection to my family."

"It must be nice…" Mordred's eyes looked to the floor, her body beginning to shake.

"M-Mordred, I don't understand…"

"Of course you don't understand!" Rushing him with no warning, Mordred grabbed Shirou's collar with both hands and dragged his face down to her level. "Your name is your pride, recognition of the love and respect of your mentor, your idol! What of my name though, master?! I possess no surname as you do, father never recognized me. No, all I have is this accursed name that marks me as a betrayer, a bastard child with no honor!"

Mordred's body quivered with anger, her enraged eyes blazing intensely into his own. He understood the legends of King Arthur and Mordred, but he had no idea her hatred was this deep seated within her.

"This name is my only true possession, and even that is tainted, can you understand how that feels? My life, my legacy is that of a traitor. This name of mine is no blessing like yours, but a curse." Her eyes had begun to water, but they had yet to form actual tears. Perhaps she was still somewhat drunk; she didn't seem like the type to bear her soul like this.

Shirou didn't know how to calm her; he had never dealt with this kind of thing before. If you told him to slay a vampire or demon, he would do it without hesitation… but how did one comfort a hurt young girl? With no better answer, Shirou wrapped his arms around her tiny body, pulling her close to his.

"W-Wha?!" Her eyes snapped wide open with shock, her body squirming against his hold in an attempt to break free. Slamming her forehead against his nose, she forced him off of her. "D-Don't do such an unsightly thing so calmly, what are you thinking?!"

"When someone you care about is upset, don't you want to comfort them?"

Mordred's face flushed red with embarrassment at his words, her body beginning to shake worryingly. Shirou felt like he had escaped one dangerous situation only to land right into another one, how unstable was this girl?

"You… care about me?" Her voice becoming soft for the first time in the conversation, Mordred held her hand against her chest. Was she checking her heartbeat? Did Servants have heartbeats? "But, we have only been partners for a few days, isn't it abnormal for you to become attached to another so quickly?"

"Maybe so, but it doesn't change the fact that I do care, you're _my_ Servant, your wellbeing is my concern as well." Shirou held out his hand gently, hoping to reconcile with his estranged Servant. "I won't call you by your real name if you don't want me to, Saber. I meant nothing by it, so can we put it behind us?"

Mordred extended her hand to take his, taking a step forward. However, between the two lay the discarded blanket from her bed. Her composure eroded by the strange mix of feelings inside of her lowered her natural spatial senses causing her foot to her caught up in it.

"..!"

Mordred toppled over, falling against Shirou and taking him with her. Dazed, the two ended up prone on the floor, Mordred lying on top of Shirou. Shirou blushed heavily, and Mordred's dumbstruck expression showed she had no idea what to do in this situation.

Mordred sat up, but somehow this only made their positions more suggestive, as she now found herself straddling him.

"Ah, Shirou, there you are." The cold, emotionless voice of one Giorno Giovanna cut into the room, catching the attention of the panicking duo. "There was something I wished to speak with you about, but you seem to be busy at the moment. Come see me when you're done."

Giorno turned and walked away from the door, his lack of reaction somehow bothering Shirou more than if he had reacted. Maybe it was because he assumed the circumstances without questioning them at all, or how casually he had left.

"W-Wait, Boss! This is a misunderstanding, don't leave!" Jumping to his feet, Shirou found himself holding his Servant in his arms as he dashed into the hall. In his panic he hadn't considered the consequences for this action, until he caught sight of Arturia walking down the hall. She froze as fast as he did, both turning as still as statues.

His eyes darted with the speed of a bullet between Arturia and the girl in his arms, Mordred. Wasn't this literally being caught in a compromising situation with a girl by their parent? He remembered Shinji giving him a collection of romantic comics as references for being better with women, so he recognized this event. Just how had such a clichéd scene played out around him?

"Put me down, you insolent fool!" The back of Mordred's left hand slapped him across the face, snapping him back to his senses. Lightly putting the girl down on her feet, Shirou felt a wave of humiliation wash over him. He had been so close to getting through to her, and then that happened. This would probably be a bigger strain on their relationship then his actions with Berserker.

Arturia refrained from commenting on what had just transpired, opting to turn around and swiftly leave the hall. Shirou wasn't sure if he should be glad about that or worried, but he was more concerned with Mordred. Looking towards her, she averted her gaze from his before they could meet. It was as he feared, she probably hated him now.

"I- I'll go get dressed now, Master. Then we can see what it is your Boss wanted."

A few minutes later and the two awkwardly walked side by side into the main room, finding Giorno and Arturia waiting there for them. Sitting down across from them, Shirou tried his hardest to act as if nothing had happened.

"You needed to see us, Boss?"

"Indeed, this is a matter of vital importance." Placing a newspaper on the table, Giorno slid it towards Shirou. The cover story was about the mysterious gas leaks that had been happening around town, leaving countless people in comas. Thankfully, no one had died yet, and all the victims were expected to recover. "I told you I had no intention of joining this Holy Grail War, unless the damage started to spread outside of the participants themselves."

"You suspect these 'gas leaks' to be the work of an enemy Master then?" Mordred answered first, having peered over Shirou's shoulder to read the newspaper. "The timing certainly fits the start of the war, but is that all?"

"In the fourth war, there was a team who attempted to increase their strength by having their Servant feed on the souls of innocent civilians. I suspect this to be a similar situation, though this Master is only draining some of the magical energy from their victims."

"How underhanded, what kind of man do you have to be to commit a crime like this?" Shirou threw the paper against the table in disgust, his sense of justice beginning to fire up inside of him. "What's the plan, Giorno?"

"First, we shall determine the identity of those responsible. It's likely to be either Assassin or Caster, for the former is too weak to stand up against most Servants without the boost, and the latter has the means to commit such a mass mana drain." Giorno stood up, striking his signature pose as he spoke. "You and Saber will patrol the suburbs, while Arturia and I scout downtown."

"I haven't' see you so fired up in a long time, Giorno." Arturia smiled and rose to her feet. "It's very… nostalgic."

"This is Passione's city, _my_ city. I won't allow them to do as they please with the innocent lives of its population any longer." The Golden aura of his Stand power burst out of his body, emphasizing how serious he was.

Heading out of the house, the two teams parted ways and headed down different paths. Shirou looked over to Mordred, who still seemed apprehensive about looking at him. Maybe a fight would be good for them, if he could show her they can work together in battle perhaps not all was lost.

"Mordred, about that time against Berserker…" Shirou struggled to find the right words, nothing he thought of sounded correct. "I was, I was…"

"Reckless? Suicidal? A bigger idiot than I originally thought?" Mordred, her hands behind her head skipped ahead of him casually.

"Yeah… something like that."

"Forget about it, it's not like you had much of a choice." Mordred spun around on her heel of her foot, finally looking at him again. "I was down for the count, if you hadn't fought em' yourself we'd both probably be dead right now."

"Yeah, I suppose so." Shirou finally felt some form of relief; maybe he was just overreacting before. She didn't seem that bothered by it, or if she was she hid it well. "Wait, 'down for the count'? Isn't that kind of a modern expression for a medieval knight?"

"That annoying redhead with impossibly strong arms taught it to me, did I use it properly?"

Shirou nodded and continued down the road, Mordred falling in line behind him. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. Mordred tilted her head to the side in confusion, but before she could ask him why he had stopped, he slapped himself in the face and let out a sigh.

"Merda, I forgot… about Tatsuki!"

In the confusion from before, he had failed to even recall having her as a subordinate, let alone informing her of what was going on with him. Somehow, he had a bad feeling this was going to come back to haunt him.


	19. Chapter 18: Defeat

In the peaceful, quiet night two figures walked side by side down the street in lower Fuyuki. The only light of any note was that of the moon hanging low overhead as they passed through the downtrodden town. But this was no casual stroll for pleasure, these two were on a mission.

How long had it been since he'd felt the need to handle something personally? While his body was still relatively young, the weight of his soul's age was starting to show. Sometimes he expected to wake up from this life, revealing that it was nothing but a dream. But this was no dream, it was reality.

The pair entered a dark alleyway, passing a crowd of drunks heading out of a local bar. The intoxicated civilians paid them no mind, and they too ignored them. Even with his flamboyant choice of attire, he barely stood out among the members of this world anymore.

Giorno was born in a different time, in a different world entirely, and yet… he was at peace here. When had he started thinking of this world as his home, when had his dream to return to his world vanished from his mind? Looking over at the woman by his side, he wondered if she asked herself these same questions.

Arturia was like him, a soul older than her years let on, and from a time even more disconnected than his. Had she finally adjusted to this life, or was she only putting up a front for him? Stopping his stride, his stern eyes locked on hers, causing her to pause in surprise.

"Giorno, what's the matter?" Looking up at him with concern, Arturia couldn't read the emotion hidden behind his cold facade.

"Arturia, should we encounter the enemy, leave them to me." Giorno clenched his fist, a subtle golden glow enveloping his hand. "You're much weaker than before, I'm afraid you may no longer be a match for a Servant."

That… was that really what he wanted to say? He had wanted to ask her how she felt about her life, about her life together with him, but the words he spoke were business as usual. He couldn't bring himself to say it, was he actually scared of the answer that she could give?

"And you're so much better off? Listen, Giorno..." Arturia crossed her arms, taking an obstinate posture. "It's been a long time since you've used your power seriously too, and I saw the way your body strained healing Shirou's wounds so many days in a row."

"You noticed that, did you?" Giorno looked off into the distance, his normally cold expression showing a hint of a smile. "Keep it to yourself, I don't need Shirou or the others worrying about me, I still have enough strength left for this."

Giorno raised his clenched fist, staring intently at the Stand aura emanating from it. He had grown used to his Stand power being in this form, but there were times he missed his original. Being connected to his body like this reduced his range and tied his strength directly into his body's stamina. He could still use his powers of course, but the intense drain of Gold Experience Requiem made it a last resort at best.

"I understand that well, a King needs to remain absolute." Placing her hand on his shoulder, Arturia closed the gap between them. "But a king doesn't fight alone, that was the mistaken belief I once held. If you hesitate to ask for help, it may be too late.

Spinning around suddenly, Giorno wrapped his arms around the former king. The blonde girl blushed at this sudden action, but she didn't resist him. Separating after a moment, Giorno listed her left hand with his right. Looking at him with a puzzled expression, Giorno plucked a hair from his head, a golden energy flowing into it as he placed it on her hand.

The power of his Stand, his Gold Experience, transformed it. Wrapped around Arturia's ring finger was a band made of the stem of a flower, a brilliant white bulb resting like a diamond at the top. Opening her mouth to speak, Arturia's mind froze before she could respond, was this what she thought it was?

Giorno felt like this was something he should have done a long time ago, perhaps he had lacked the resolve then. Only now, after accepting this world as his home, had he truly begun to move forward. It was something he never had the strength to do in the other world, he had only ever looked back with regret during that time. Now he would look to the future, regardless of what that may hold for him.

"Even if my body grows weak and unable to use this power of mine, the resolve in my heart will never waver." Raising Arturia's hand up, he gently kissed the back of her hand. "We both may lack the same strength we had before, but we'll just have to make up for the others' weakness, then we'll have nothing to worry about."

Two souls, from vastly different backgrounds, brought together by the miracle of the Holy Grail War. Arturia was no servant, but she would never have joined the ranks of the counter force had she not achieved victory in her own war. Both of them, outsiders to this world in more ways than one, surely their fates were intertwined.

Outside of Shirou, who knew parts of the story, they were the only ones in the world who knew each other's full stories. This closeness wasn't something that happened with anyone, they were already deeply connected to one another. The pain they suffered in life, the tragedy of their deaths, only they knew the full extent of each other's suffering.

They saved each other. Giorno rescued her from an eternal service to the world, striking down countless foes without remorse. And she had, without even realizing it, saved him from himself. His obsession with returning to his own world had caused him more suffering than even he knew, and through their relationship he had been freed from it.

"Let's go, we can't let this master do as they please in our home any longer." She smiled up at Giorno, a passion burning in her eyes.

"Agreed, follow me."

The pair resumed their search, walking side by side. Casually slipping her fingers between his, Arturia took hold of Giorno's hand, leaning against his shoulder gently. Looking more like a couple on a date than a pair of soldiers on a warpath, the two couldn't have felt more content than they did at that moment.

Knight and Gang-Star made their way through the city, their senses primed, waiting for the slightest sign of any disturbance. The streets were relatively empty, even for this time of night. Had the recent 'gas leaks' caused people to be more cautious?

The enemy could be anywhere around them, neither Giorno nor Arturia possessed the means to track down a magus, so they had to do things the old fashioned way. The search seemed endless, not a single sign of any enemy existed for them to find. Not wishing to tire before even finding the enemy, they stopped to rest at the central park of the city.

This place was once a bustling center of activity, but that all changed at the end of the last war. Devastated by a massive fire, the destroyed part of the city was remade in part into this park to serve as a memorial. Giorno had bore witness to the destruction, and a tragedy like that was exactly the thing he wished to prevent from happening once more.

The connection they both shared with this park ran deep, dating back to both of their 'rebirths' into this world. Giorno had risen from the flames, Servant no more. And from the ashes he had pulled the only survivor, the boy he cared for as a brother.

Arturia had been summoned into this place to end his life, but had fallen for him instead. This strange turn of fate could only be achieved by him, making the impossible a reality seemed to be his main talent. Under the enchanting beauty of the lone cherry tree that grew in defiance of the barren landscape around it, Arturia remembered the many battles they had together under this same tree. They may have been painful, but they had lead to her to this point in her life, so they hadn't been without merit.

Sipping a can of hot, black coffee, Arturia gazed up at the night sky. Giorno rose from his seat beside her suddenly, his eyes sharply locked towards the entrance of the park. Two figures, their form obscured by darkness, slowly made their way towards them.

The first, a man in a blue armored bodysuit with wild hair pulled back into a ponytail, strode in. In his hands he carried a long, crimson spear, rested behind his head on his shoulders. The second was a woman with short magenta hair, wearing a men's business suit and black leather gloves. There was no mistaking who this pair was, Giorno had already heard everything from Shirou about that first night.

Lancer had hurt Shirou, that was reason enough for Giorno to throw himself at the man in a rage, but there was something else. Something more primal boiled within him, was it has nature as a heroic spirit? Feeling the presence of the man in front of him, he wished to test his strength against him.

"Hmm, you don't seem like the one's we're looking for, do they Master?" Cocking his head to the side in mock confusion, Lancer's face was practically grinning at this point. It was obvious from his fight with Shirou that he was a man who relished combat over all else, a simple personality that was easy to deal with. "Not a Master or Servant, but not a human either… what are you then?"

"You can tell that much just by looking at me, can you?" Giorno stepped out to face the two, Arturia soon following him. The tension in the air was palpable, it was unlike Giorno could avoid a fight at this point. "As expected of one of the three Knight Classes. Your assumptions are correct, I am neither a Master nor a Servant, I am a Gang-Star."

"Am I supposed to know what that means?" Removing his spear from his shoulders, Lancer twirled it in the air, bringing it down to face Giorno. "But if you can stand that confidently against me, I guess you think you're pretty strong, shall I test that ego of yours?"

"Lancer, they do not appear to be the enemy we seek, there's no need to involve ourselves." Bazett Fraga McRemitz crossed her arms and stepped forward. "It would be wise to conserve our strength."

"You might not be after us, but who said I wasn't after you?" A golden aura surrounded Giorno Giovanna, a feeling of bloodlust emanating from him.

A flash of brilliant white crossed between Giorno and Lancer, a clash of metal lighting the gloomy park with a shower of sparks. Lancer's full attention had been on Giorno, and he had neglected the other in the vicinity. Standing in her full battle armor, Arturia brandished her shimmering golden sword against the Servant before her.

"Oi oi, two Sabers in one war… what the hell's going on here?" Backing off a step, Lancer's attention was now firmly planted on Arturia. "No, you don't smell like a Servant either, but that sword..."

Arturia may be weakened since her time as a counter guardian, but she could still fight. She could have easily avoided this fight, waiting until she was needed, but she wanted to prove herself. She had to show that she could still fight, still be useful, not just to Giorno, she had to prove it to herself.

With a burst of mana the former Counter Guardian charged in, her sword cutting a deadly arc through the sky, Lancer responded in kind, his crimson spear flaring with a demonic pulse, as if the weapon itself sought its enemies blood.

Their skills were evenly matched, both fighters wielding their weapon with an artful grace that transcended mere mortal skill. Each exchange of blows seemed like a well choreographed dance, but their attacks carried true lethal intent.

A surge of magical energy ran through Bazett's body, activating the strengthening runes inscribed in her clothing. The magus ran out into the fray between Heroic Spirits, a feat even a Magus should have hesitation to do, but she did it so easily. Her fist, hardened by her magecraft, shot forward, slamming Arturia hard in the side.

The swordswoman didn't fall, but her momentary pause was enough for Lancer. His cursed spear roared, slicing through the air to take her heart. She couldn't move fast enough to dodge, was this the end?

"Muda!" With a falling kick, Giorno knocked the spear off its path. A golden light flashed from the ground beneath his feet, dozens of sharp bamboo rods bursting out of the ground.

Lancer jumped back, avoiding the attack. Bazett however ran forward, Her fists breaking through the bamboo rods easily. Giorno's expression hardened, shouldn't his Stand's damage feedback applied to her? Had his power grown so weak that even one of his most basic abilities had left him?

Bazett's leg shot out with an explosive kick, one that could easily break even magically reinforced bones. Giorno could have dodged it, but it would have put Arturia in harm's way. Instead, he opted to block it. His arm, even strengthened as it was by Gold Experience, shattered against her insane strength. Giorno understood perfectly how she had given Shirou such a hard time, her power was nothing to joke about.

Giorno stepped in, repairing his arm with his Stand power and launching into a flurry of blows. But his assault missed its mark as the woman before him deftly sidestepped, sending a punch crashing into his ribs.

Giorno tumbled to the ground, barely able to kneel before she had closed the distance again. Grabbing one of his ladybug brooches, Giorno threw it towards his attacker, transforming it into a piranha in mid air. Bazett easily smashed through the fish, but it was enough of a diversion for Giorno to get back to his feet and repair his wounds.

The two hand to hand combatants through punches simultaneously, Both striking the other in the face at the same moment.

"Muda!" Giorno drew back his fist, throwing his other hand immediately after. His punch landed true, knocking the magus back. Taking a deep breath, Giorno realized he had begun to sweat, was he really this out of shape at using his Stand?

Charging back at him, Bazett leapt into the air. Twisting her body into a diving kick, she unleashed a burst of mana as she dove.

"Ansuz-Eihwaz!" With the call of her rune's names, purple energy enveloped her. Giorno kicked off the ground, avoiding the powerful kick. The ground where he had been standing exploded with her impact, just how was this woman human?

Giorno and Bazett rushed each other again, both fighters turning into a storm of blows. It wasn't just that Giorno had become weaker, this woman was incredibly strong. Her magic had been perfectly honed towards close combat, turning her into a nigh unstoppable tank. But as Giorno's battle raged, so too did Arturia's.

Steel clashed again and again, neither warrior giving up any ground. Arturia's skill was flawless, there were no gaps in her form for Lancer to take advantage of. But the same went for him, his skill the spear was without peer, barely giving Arturia a chance to recover between strikes before another flurry of thrusts rained down on her.

"To think I would get to match blades against the King of Knights, this Holy Grail War thing is really something else!" Lancer's face bore a murderous grin as he charged in, thrusting his spear towards Arturia's slightly exposed belly.

"At one time perhaps, but I am a king no longer!" Bringing her legendary sword down against his spear, she easily parried the strike and ran past it to counter. She swung her sword in a horizontal slash, but Lancer ducked under it.

Twirling his spear, Lancer struck Arturia with the blunt end of the shaft in an upward swing. The attack did little damage, but it threw her off balance long enough for him. In a blur of motion, Lancer's spear cut across her breastplate, showering both fighters in a crimson rain.

Arturia staggered back, her arms barely able to stay up. She deflected Lancer's next blow, but her hands had already begun to go numb. The world around her was going dark, but she had to keep fighting. She wasn't helpless, she could still fight. The longer she spent living an ordinary life in this time, the more she seemed to turn into a regular girl, her legendary power slipping through her fingers.

Lancer's spear easily bypassed her guard, her movements having become sluggish, the cursed blade sinking deep into her chest. Dropping her blade, Arturia looked down at the red spear embedded in her body, blood spilling from her lips.

"How pathetic, allowing yourself to lose so easily," Lancer pulled the spear from her body, her legs giving out. "You knew who you were up against, but you still held back?"

Huh? The word's coming out of Lancer's mouth didn't make sense. Arturia had put her all into that fight and come up short, wasn't that the reality? She had weakened from her time on earth, barely able to be called a heroic spirit anymore.

"I have no desire to fight someone who's afraid of their own power."

No, that wasn't right… it couldn't be. But hadn't Giorno said those same words to her before. Had she been holding back subconsciously, had she really grown that soft?

"Gold Experience!" Giorno's cool and collected voice broke into a noticeable rage, a massive surge of energy flowing out of him. A sea of tentacle like vines swarmed out of the surrounding ground, wrapping around Bazett's body. The magus pinned in place, Giorno rushed towards the fallen former King.

Lancer moved to block him, but Giorno's speed was still that of a heroic spirit's. Slipping past Lancer's thrust, Giorno's fist smashed into the man's face, a golden wave of energy flowing into him. Lancer's body froze, his mind speeding up to the point where his reflexes couldn't keep up with it. Giorno's fists blew away the servant in a huge flurry of blows faster than the eye could follow.

Rushing over to Arturia's fallen body, Giorno placed his hand on her and let his Stand power envelop her. Healing the human body wasn't the true use of his Stand, and this seemed to be the use of it that took the most out of him now, but he wouldn't let her die.

"..!"

Giorno leapt back, A red lance cutting a deadly arc where he had just been. Lancer moved to stand between him and the fallen Arturia. Giorno hoped the amount of power he had transferred to her would be enough to save her, it _had_ to be enough.

"Lancer, I suggest you retreat for now." Giorno stood confidently before the Servant, his expression as fearless as it always was. "If you want to insure the safety of your Master, that is."

At Giorno's silent command, the vines around Bazett's body constricted, tightening around her neck.

"You've miscalculated, _Gang-Star._" Lancer's aura flared, a massive amount of magical energy filling into his spear. "A threat like that would only work on someone who can't kill you first!"

The spearman in blue dashed forward with unbelievable speed, the blade of his legendary polearm poised to take Giorno's heart. The crimson lance lashed out like a starving viper, an intense bloodlust overflowing from the weapon. Giorno threw out his hand, catching the spearhead between his fingers mere inches from his body.

"Too slow, did you think you could save your Master with such a halfhearted effort, Lancer!" Giorno forced the tip of the spear away from him, rushing towards the Servant in the newly created gap in his defenses. "It's _useless,_ you might as well be moving in slow motion to me!"

"Tough talk from someone who could barely keep up with my Master!" Lancer brought his spear down, striking Giorno in the shoulder with the main shaft.

Taking hold of the spear with both hands, Giorno flipped over it like a trained gymnast, landing gracefully on the outstretched weapon. Lancer moved to throw him off balance, but Giorno had already leapt into the sky, soaring well above the battlefield.

Lancer tightened his stance, his mana surging even stronger than before. It was clear from Giorno's perspective that he was planning to finish things before he hit the ground. In a battle of trump cards however… there was no way his would lose out.

"Gae..."

Two warriors, fighting for no reason but than to fight. One from his lust for battle, driving by the instincts of a Servant. The other from a desire to reaffirm his worth, to prove he was still needed in this world.

"Gold Experience..."

Crimson and Gold energy swirled around them, both combatants preparing to show their worth as a heroic spirit, their Noble Phantasm. Giorno had returned to an existence closer to that of a living human, but he still carried some of his nature as a former Servant. Even in this struggle to survive, he couldn't deny that he _enjoyed _the feeling of clashing against someone as strong as he was. Arturia surely felt the same way, as both a heroic spirit and a knight.

"_Bolg!"_

Lancer's spear shot forward in a powerful thrust, twisting the sky in an unnatural pattern that ignored linear direction. Passing through Giorno's defenses easily, the cursed lance sliced clean through his heart. A weapon that always found its mark once drawn, Gae Bolg was an ultimate attack to which there was no defense in this world.

"_Requiem!"_

But Giorno wasn't from this world, there was no reason he would obey the laws that Gaia set out before him! Grabbing the spear in his chest, the intense light of his Stand flowed out in every direction.

Vermillion sparks arced off of the spear, clashing with the golden light Giorno was emitting. The surrounding air distorted, Giorno losing all sense of time and direction. The ground broke around them and fell away, the trees in the park were shattered to pieces and cleaved in two.

Gold Experience Requiem reset any action to 'zero,' reverting the world to a state where it had never occurred in the first place. But Gae Bolg opposed that ability, a power that rewrote causality to make victory an inevitability. A power that prevents all actions, and a power that cannot be prevented, the clash of such opposites treated to tear reality apart.

Giorno felt as if his flesh was tearing away from his bones, and the agony of being stabbed multiplied a hundred times over. Gaia itself seemed to cry out in pain as the two Noble Phantasms ripped the world apart at the seams.

It seemed impossible to him, but his Requiem was losing out. Gae Bolg refused to bend to his will, its curse wouldn't be denied so easily. The spear pierced his heart one second, and in the next the action was erased, only for the cycle to continue. Pulling the spear from his chest, Giorno rushed forward in the maelstrom of clashing energy.

The cursed lance stabbed him from behind, an impossible angle of attack for the Servant before him, but Giorno didn't slow his charge. The spear vanished and reappeared in Lancer's grip, cutting into Giorno once again. Killing him over a dozen times, Gae Bolg fought against his Requiem, bewildering both Giorno and Lancer alike.

The spearman couldn't understand what was happening around him and it took all of his strength to stay standing against the tide of Giorno's power. His Spear was completely out of his control at this point, its curse acting in a way he had never seen before. Every time the spear should have claimed the blonde man's life, he stood up as if it never happened.

"Muda!" Giorno's fist exploded out, striking Lancer on the jaw just as Gae Bolg shot through him once more. The last thrust of the spear was stronger than before blowing Giorno away in a flash. Likewise, Giorno's punch threw Lancer a good distance back.

Sliding across the ground, Giorno's body dug into the dirt, kicking up a screen of debris that obscured him from Lancer's view. The Servant in blue stood up, his spear once more appearing in his hand as if he had never let go. Unlike before though the spear did not lash out again, it was over. The chaotic storm of reality warping powers disappeared in an instant, the park returning to the state it had been in before.

Lancer's body was trembling, what was this feeling? Fear, excitement? Perhaps it was both? But at the same time, something was gone. His desire to continue the fight had vanished without a trace, an unthinkable thing for the Servant who joined the war simply to enjoy himself fighting against other heroes.

All he had to do was walk over to his downed opponent and he could finish the battle. It was too easy for him to kill them now that their bizarre power had given out, so why… weren't his legs moving? Lancer stood frozen in place, unable to make a decision on how to handle finishing off Giorno.

"What's… what's happening? What am I waiting for?" Lancer's hands tightened around the shaft of his spear. But he couldn't move, his body wouldn't respond to his commands, and slowly… he lost interest in trying to move.

"I reset your 'willingness to fight' to zero, this battle is over." The voice of Lancer's opponent cut through the silence, coming from directly behind the Servant.

"..!" Lancer's eyes darted behind him a the sudden voice, coming into contact with Giorno's cold gaze. How had he gotten behind him so fast, he had just been blown across the park!

Giorno Giovanna placed his hand on Lancer's shoulder, a menacing aura pouring out from the quiet man. Lancer's body still refused to move, what did he mean by 'resetting his will' anyways? The man hadn't done anything that appeared like hypnosis or mind altering magic in their fight, so how had he done this to him?

"I'm not a Servant or a Master, not in this war at least." Giorno slowly walked out to stand in front of the frozen Lancer. A cold wind blew through the man's hair, his ponytail and curled bangs having come undone at some point. "I have no reason to involve myself in a fight against you, at least… I didn't."

The Gang-Star stepped forward, leaning in close to the immobilized Servant. Lancer lost sight of everything else around him, only able to see the imposing presence of the strange man who could match a Servant's strength.

"But now, now you've hurt _two_ of the people I care for the most, I can't let that go."

Giorno threw a punch with all his strength towards Lancer's exposed face, his hand stopping suddenly right before impact. Lancer stared at the halted attack, unsure of what had happened. Why had he said all of that just to hesitate, was he toying with him?

Unknown to Lancer, Giorno had no choice but to stop his attack. The pain that shot through his body was enough to stop even his most reckless of actions, he hadn't come out of that exchange unscathed.

His Requiem had defeated Lancer's spear, at least on the surface. But the damage he had accumulated hadn't completely faded away, and he could barely keep himself standing. And soon, his power that prevented Lancer from moving would wane, now wasn't the time to settle petty grudges.

"Even so, you're not the enemy I sought tonight, and I've wasted enough of my strength on this pointless matter." With every remaining ounce of his strength Giorno walked over to the unconscious body of Arturia, showing no outward signs that his body was on the verge of collapse. Retrieving Arturia, Giorno slowly left the park, leaving Lancer and Bazett behind.

Shortly after leaving, Arturia stirred, her eyes slowly opening in his arms. Her momentary confusion was quickly replaced by a downcast expression as she realized her current situation. It wasn't a result she could say was unexpected, but it was disheartening all the same.

"I- I'm sorry… I shouldn't have attacked them, but I was just..." Her voice cut off, her pride as a knight not wanting to reveal any more weakness, but this wasn't something she could just brush past. "I was afraid, terrified that I couldn't keep up with you any more. If I became weak and useless…"

"Looks like we both got taught a lesson on the limits of our own power." Giorno didn't look down at the woman in his arms, if his focus wavered for even a moment he feared his legs would give out. "Try not to be so impulsive next time, we can't afford to engage in unnecessary battles like we used to."

"That sounds like something a tired old king would say, Giorno."

"Perhaps I am, but even if you became a king such as that, would it have stopped you?"

Arturia nodded quietly, leaning her head against Giorno's chest. Wrapping her arms around his neck, the Counter Guardian smiled softly up at him.

"We really are stupid, aren't we? Two fools who can't stay out of trouble, even going so far as to start it ourselves..."

"I suppose this is where Shirou got some of his bad habits from, though I wish I could deny tha-"

Giorno fell to one knee, gritting his teeth. A wave of pain shot through his body, like every nerve he had was being ripped out. For a moment the pain was so intense his vision went white, but it quickly subsided.

"I-If you were that injured, why did you not say anything sooner?!" squirming out of his arms, Arturia shakily stood up on her own feet. Her head felt dizzy as she did so, but she endured it, showing no signs outwardly. Neither one of them was condition to move, but they couldn't stay here either. "You always just do whatever you like without thinking about yourself, don't you have any sense of self preservation?"

His body shaking with every movement, Giorno stood up on his unsteady legs. Wiping a small drop of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his cold eyes fixed on Arturia's. He had always lived with his life on the line, but it was true that his attitude had changed, he couldn't deny it. Before he risked his life because it was the only way to achieve his dream, but now it was as if he was doing so for no real reason.

"It seems to be a common trait within Passione." Not waiting for a response from Arturia Giorno walked past her, ignoring the pain running through his body with nothing but his willpower. Slowly making his way up a hill, Giorno stopped, his gaze falling upon a new presence.

A strange feeling woke up as he looked at the girl, recognizing her instantly. Her dark hair tied back partially into two long pigtails, that expression that made her seem like she was looking down on everyone around her. Yes, this was the same girl he had encounter once during the fourth holy grail war. One of his greatest failings as a 'hero.'

"It's been a long time, Rin Tohsaka..."

* * *

"It's been a long time, Rin Tohsaka..."

The disheveled man, his clothes torn and caked with blood was a far cry from that distant figure in her memories, but there was no way she could forget that look in his eyes. It had been nearly ten years since that night but she still remembered him, the golden blonde hero who had rescued her from certain death at the hands of a Servant during the previous war.

That man had to be a Servant himself, so he should have faded along with the war a decade ago, yet here he stood. Had he been summoned into the war a second time? No, that didn't make sense. While it wouldn't be unlikely for the same servant to be summoned twice, they existed only as copies of the Heroic Spirit, and thus would retain no memory of the previous war. That meant that he had survived since the previous war, but the amount of power that would take was more than a single Magus could provide. And the most likely way for him to have gained that much energy was to take it from the living. In other words, the 'gas leaks' plaguing the city, the very same incident she was investigating.

"Was it you? These innocent people falling into comas all over the city, was that your doing?!" The young woman could feel her composure eroding away just by looking at him, and she couldn't see anything remotely heroic in him at that moment. "To keep living… how many lives have you drained so selfishly? What kind of hero could commit such an atrocity?!"

'That's exactly… what I wanted to find out." Wincing as he moved, Giorno stumbled and fell against an adjacent wall. His breathing was ragged and uneven, and it looked as though he could lose consciousness at any time. "But it appears fate had other plans, perhaps the world wished for us to reunite like this."

"There's no way a Servant from a previous war can still be around, it's impossible!" Rin raised her left hand, a surge of magical energy flowing through it. "The amount of mana required to maintain a Servant without backup from the Grail system is far too high for any individual Master to handle. So you'd need a secondary source, such as draining the mana from _helpless civilians._"

"Always so quick to anger, aren't you? This must be a trait of the Tohsaka bloodline, you remind me quite a bit of Tokiomi." Giorno pushed himself off of the wall, staggering forward a step. He stopped, a wave of agony ripping through his nerves so strong his vision went white for a moment. "I do not need a Master, or an external source of mana, not any longer."

"W-What are you saying? A Servant needs those things to persist in this worl-"

"That's right, a Servant does. But what if a 'servant' was no longer a 'servant'? Would those rules still apply?"

Rin quieted down, thinking over the man's words carefully. She supposed it could be possible for the grail to grant a Servant a living body, assuming they were the winner of the war. But if they won the war, the war that claimed her father's life… he had mentioned him by name a moment before as well, hadn't he?

"Fine, I'll accept that you're not the one behind these attacks _for now, _but I still don't trust you." Activating the magic crest inscribed on her body, Rin prepared an offensive spell, her Gandr shot. Against a Servant it would be almost nothing, but she felt safer having it prepared just in case. "Before we part ways, tell me why you know my father's name. If I don't like the answer, I might just blast you back to the throne of heroes myself."

"If you do anything to harm Giorno, I'll have your head, magus." Appearing from the shadows, her sword drawn, Arturia placed her blade close to the girl's neck. How had she gotten behind Rin unnoticed? Impossible, was this another stray Servant?

A blade flashed out of thin air, knocking Arturia's sword back. Materializing between her and his Master, Archer crossed his twin swords in front of him. Moving to attack, the mysterious hero paused, his expression turning to shock for a moment as he looked upon the face of the lily white Counter Guardian.

"Back down, Arturia, everything is under control." Giorno's stone face glared towards the swordswoman, who reluctantly returned to his side. Archer, recovered from whatever had stunned him, began to follow, but Rin held up her hand.

"I was summoned to participate in the fourth Holy Grail War by the magus Tokiomi Tohsaka, your father. During the battle, I was unable to protect him, and he was slain by another Master."

There didn't seem to be any deception in his words, she could feel that he was speaking the truth. The subtle pain in his expression, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it, was all that she needed.

"Who… which master killed him, did they..." The words caught in her throat, she didn't want to admit how she felt. She hated the killing and death brought about by the war her family started centuries ago… but at the same time, she didn't want her father's killer to have walked away unharmed.

"Kirei Kotomine, your father's ally who chose to betray us." Locking his gaze directly only Rin's, Giorno raised his hand, closing it into a fist. "I avenged your father with my own hands."

Should she feel good about that? It was what she wanted, right? But somehow, it only seemed to make the hole in her heart feel bigger than before. Was part of her hoping that he was still out there, that she could end his life herself? The mere thought of that sent a chill through her body, was she really capable of such a thing?

"I won the war and got justice for my Master, I thought that was enough." Giorno approached Rin, stopping just outside of her Servant's range. "But I should have told you this sooner, I shouldn't have left you abandoned, I realize that now."

"And what's that supposed to mean? I turned out just fine, thank you very much! I don't need anyone's help, I never have!"

"And how exactly did you plan to defeat Assassin back then, I'd like to hear your strategy that allows an eight year old girl to fight a legendary hero one on one."

"S-Shut up, that isn't what I meant!" Crossing her arms, Rin looked away from Giorno with an annoyed expression. "Archer, we're leaving."

Walking away without another word, Rin resisted the flow of emotions running wild in her. Anger turned to pain, giving way to frustration, and even sometimes a glint of happiness. Even if she couldn't show it easily, part of her was glad she had a chance to encounter that strange Servant again, to hear his words.

"Are you sure we should just leave them like that, Rin?" Archer's voice echoed in her mind, expressing his concerns. "They were in pretty bad shape, probably the work of another servant, I'm sure I could have taken them both on."

"No, they're not the enemy we're looking for, we can't afford to waste our strength on such an inconsequential enemy."

Disappearing back into the night and resuming their search for the Caster behind the attacks on the city, the pair were left with much to think about after that encounter. And somewhere, at the back of her thoughts, Rin hoped she would get a chance to run into that man again, there were so many things she wished to ask him.

But first, she had a holy grail war to win.

* * *

"Are you unharmed, Master?" Standing over the crouched woman, Lancer knelt down and placed his hand on her back. The magenta haired woman stood up without a word, gazing off in the direction their enemies had left from, before turning and heading the other way.

After taking two steps, the magus Bazett Fraga McRimitz's legs gave out under her, sending her tumbling towards the ground. But she never made it that far, falling instead into the powerful arms of her Servant, Lancer.

Her eyes looked up at his, a barely noticeable tinge of red spreading over her face. Pushing away from him, Bazett hid her face behind one of her gloved hands. She knew he was a Servant, a fragment of a heroic spirit given life by the holy grail war, but in that moment his warmth was as real as anyone's.

She almost couldn't believe it, even to an experienced Magus the holy grail war was something else. To be standing here, in front of the hero she had admired since childhood, it was certainly surreal.

"Don't push yourself so hard, Master. You might be strong, but you're still just human." Resting his spear against his shoulder, Lancer grinned. "I'm the one who should be returning from battle beaten and bloodied, not you."

The casual way he talked about sustaining injury… the stories about him were true, he was truly a bloodthirsty beast. Cu Chulainn was one of the few heroic spirits naturally suited for the class of Berserker, and his battle lust made this quite evident despite being summoned as the Lancer class.

"We're returning to the manor, revert to spiritual form." Bazett pushed away from her Servant and steadied her footing, a minor wave of dizziness washing over her. But the magus pushed past it, not wanting to show any more weakness than she already had.

Her hardened persona that she assumed while working as enforcer made her seem cold and emotionless, but it was nothing more than a facade. Inside she was no different any other woman her age, and coming this close to death so many times in such a short period would surely leave its toll.

The city of Fuyuki passed her by in a blur, and the Enforcer soon found herself standing before an out of place western manor on the edge of town. Apparently it had been built during the third Grail War by one of the previous precipitants and eventually fallen into the hands of the association, who had provided it to her as a base of operations.

As soon as her hand touched the doorknob however the enforcer sensed something was wrong. Jumping back out of reflex, the door exploded in a magical hellfire, a shrouded figure bursting forth.

Lancer didn't wait for his Master's call, materializing in an instant between her and the new attacker. His crimson spear howled like a ravenous beast, slicing clean through the shadowy figure. The body of the would be assassin burst into blue flames and vanished as soon as it had appeared.

"That was too easy, even if Assassin isn't meant for front line battle, it was far weaker than any Servant." lancer scowled, had that been nothing more than an illusion? Was an enemy master perhaps attempting to draw his attention away and then land a blow against Bazett while he was distracted? "Don't let your guard down, Master, there could be more of them."

Bazett adjusted the enchanted gloves that served as her primary mystic code, activating the runes inscribed on the backs. Her gloves because as hard as solid stone at the command, allowing her already enhanced punches to deal even more damage. It wasn't enough to defeat a Servant, but she could potentially hold out for a short time in a purely defensive battle.

Almost as if on cue dozens more of the black cloaked figures appeared, surrounding them on all sides. Each one bore an unmistakable white mask in the shape of a skull. The Servant Assassin… but why were there so many of them?

"I don't care if there's twenty of you or two thousand, if you're all as weak as that first one you're barely worth my time!" Lancer leapt into the crowd of Assassin's, his cursed spear cutting down two more before he had even landed.

Lancer was a hurricane, his movements alone sending waves of Assassin's flying. Each attack they made was easily deflected, not a single throwing knife or dagger reached his body. A high class Servant such as him was an army unto themselves, and no matter how many there were, Assassin was a nameless wraith that had no chance of competing.

One of the Assassin's broke off from the group, charging straight towards Bazett. Unarmed, the Assassin thrust out their hands as blades, each movement of their snake like arms aimed for her vital points. Dodging side to side, Bazett evaded every attack, increasing her momentum with each change of direction.

While weaving through the Assassin's strikes, Bazett threw a powerful left hook. The blow was blocked by the Assassin, but the sound of their arm shattering was clearly heard by the Enforcer. Not stopping her assault, she twisted her body and threw a right hook, landing a clean hit against the assassin's head. The Servant staggered but refused to fall, so Bazett did not cease her attack. Her upper body turning into a pendulum, she threw her fists over and over while rolling side to side. Each punch could kill a normal human, but was it enough against a heroic spirit?

Broken and unmoving, the Assassin fell to the ground at her feet and burst into flames. These duplicate Assassins… were they a spell of some sort, was this the power of this Hassen's Noble Phantasm? Pondering that question for a moment, Bazett was unable to find the answer before a searing pain shot through her body.

Looking down in confusion, Bazett saw a hand sticking out from her stomach. The assistant had gotten behind her completely unaware and punched clean through her body. Not even Lancer seemed to be aware of this new enemy, how did they have such a lack of presence. Even the powers of concealment the Assassin class is afforded wasn't so perfect, it was almost as if this enemy had no life force at all, like they didn't exist.

Bazett's vision started to fade rapidly, and her already weak legs completely gave way under her. She crashed into the ground with a dull thud, Lancer finally taking notice of what had happened.

"B-Bazett!" Lancer cut down every Assassin in his way and rushed to his fallen Master. Forgetting the semblance of formality he tried to hold with the Magus, he let his emotions get the better of him. "Unforgivable, I'll have your head for this!"

Rushing at the new enemy, who was dressed differently from the other Assassins, Lancer raised his spear to strike. The man before him was not dressed as one of the Hassen, but in the garments of a priest, was this their master?

Blades from all directions pierced Lancer's body, his enraged charge did not stop however, and the wounded Servant showed no signs of stopping. Assassin's from all directions cut him, impaled him on spears and swords, but finally he reached his Target. It didn't matter if he died, he would make sure to kill the enemy no matter what.

"Gae Bolg!"

His spear twisted through space-time, bending the laws of causality and striking his opponent in the heart without fail. But the priest only laughed, as if such a thing was a minor inconvenience. Grabbing the spear with his hand, the mysterious priest pulled it free from his body.

"That won't work on me, I'm afraid." Waving his hand to signal the Assassins, The main looked at the slowly dying spearman. The only thing in his cold eyes was malice, his evil gaze piercing through Lancer's body stronger than any blade. "Put down this wild dog before he tries to bite me again."

Hundreds of blades tore Lancer apart, the weakened Servant no longer able to fight back. The priest turned and walked away, Leaving the scene of carnage as if it didn't involve him at all.

"Not.. so fast!"

Lancer, his body still moving despite over one hundred fatal wounds, threw his spear with the last of his strength. The spear shot through the sky like an arrow, but before it could reach it's target one of the endless sea of Assassins leapt out, taking the attack in their Master's stead.

The main smirked, impressed with the tenacity of the Servant. He waited for another attack, but it never came. Lancer's body refused to fall, but all life had left him. Even in death the Hound of Chulainn stood defiant, he was a true Heroic Spirit through and through.

Unseen to the eyes of the other precipitants, the first casualty of the fifth Holy Grail War had been claimed.


	20. Chapter 19: Ally

Surrounded by faceless enemies, Shirou Giovanna fought. The skeletal constructs employed by the Servant Caster were nothing more than cannon fodder against a Servant, but he was still painfully human even with his incredible powers. Sweat dripped down his brow as he defeated enemy after enemy, but the numbers seemed endless.

In the distance, the Servant Saber rampaged through the sea of dragon tooth warriors. Her sword thundered through the air with insane strength, blowing away the weak golems with ease. Shirou was in a difficult position however, while Mordred threw her full strength unabashedly around, he was being held back by one factor: the girl behind him who was absolutely no match for this many enemies.

"Tatsuki, I know you wanted to help out, but it might have been better if you'd stayed back this time." Shirou let out a soft sigh as he deflected an attack by one of the dragon tooth warriors, countering with a punch from his Stand that shattered the golem's head to pieces.

"There's so many of them, are ya sayin you could take them all by yourself?" The redheaded girl behind him lashed out with a high kick, her inhuman level of strength blowing the golem back, but not fully defeating it. Shirou still had no idea what the source of her power was, but it was clearly above what a normal teenage girl should possess. "It's not like I'm completely helpless, I beat you, right?"

"You're certainly strong, but your abilities seem more focused towards one on one fights. With my first Act I'm far more suited to crowd control." Shirou's stand flew up above him, releasing a hail of swords down on the enemy swarm. Each sword might have been weak on their own, but with the amount he unleashed the golems were crushed nevertheless. "I have to hold back with you here, wouldn't want to make my new subordinate into a pincushion"

Pouting, Tatsuki turned and landed a body blow against one of the warriors, its body cracking in half from the impact. Taking a pose that reminded Shirou of an old transforming hero show he had enjoyed as a child, she leapt into the air and came crashing down against the next wave of enemies in a flying kick, destroying three in a single blow.

"Who can't handle more than one of these guys at once again, was it me?" Her overconfident, somewhat annoyingly upbeat attitude returning as quickly as it had disappeared, Tatsuki winked at Shirou before jumping clear of the horde of golems. Landing gracefully on a nearby concrete wall, she sat down as if she hadn't just been fighting for her life. "But if you wanna handle it yourself, go right ahead, Boss."

"Alright, I'll show you what a Gang-Star is really capable of!" Crossing his arms in front of his face with his palms facing out, Shirou bent his legs into a half crouch. "Let's show this annoying kid your true potential, my Blade Works!"

Rushing forward, Shirou's Stand launched into a flurry of strikes. Not punches but not palm strikes either, the Stand's hands sliced through the enemy like deadly blades. Every part of the Stand was a 'sword,' even when it fought hand to hand. The first row of dragon tooth warriors hadn't even finished crumbing to the ground when his next volley of attacks began, throwing swords as fast as they could be pulled out from within the Stand's body.

Swords, daggers, spears and anything else that could be classes as a bladed melee weapon tore through the sea of golems, each with the force of fifty caliber sniper rifle rounds. The futile defenses of the golems were quickly broken against his assault, and soon there remained no more enemies in his view.

Off to his left, Mordred yawned, unimpressed. Apparently, she had taken care of her share of the enemies a long time ago, and was resting atop a pile of dismantled golems. Should he be insulted or flattered that she decided he didn't need her help against these mooks? Shirou wasn't sure how to feel about his Servant watching him struggle instead of joining in, but he would try not to take offense to it.

"Looks like these were just a distraction, Master." Mordred kicked the skull of one of the warriors listlessly, not bothering to stand up yet. Her bored expression was enough to tell Shioru how little this battle was to her. "Third rate party tricks like this are barely worth my time to look at, yet they think they can challenge me with them? How absurd."

"I think they were a test, Caster was most likely observing our strength before facing us himself." Shirou dismissed his Stand, the instant relief of not having to maintain its form washing over his fatigued body. While he hadn't had to go into his Second Art, he had still used more of his power then he'd planned to that night, and he was nearly his limits. "I doubt we'll find them tonight, we should return home before we've exhausted too much of our energy."

"Aw, we're done already?" Tatsuki hopped down from her perch and rejoined them, her hands behind her head. "I was hoping my first outing with the gang would be more exciting, we didn't even find the enemy base!"

"No, but we do have a good idea of how Caster intends to fight. I doubt they'll leave their workshop the entire war; they intend to make this a proxy war." Shirou turned to his lone subordinate, the trainee that was forced onto him at such an awkward time. He trusted Giorno's judgment, but he was still unsure of his ability to command her, especially when he had to manage his temperamental Servant on top of everything else. "They'll do everything they can to hide their base from us, because when we've found it..."

"Crushing them will be child's play, the natural counter to the Caster Class is myself, Saber." slowly rising from her makeshift seat, Mordred picked up the sword that had been leaning next to her and rested it against her armored shoulder. "Mages all fight the same, it should be no trouble at all."

"You're right, Caster is the least of my concerns, there are more important things we need to deal with first." Shirou's body involuntarily shuddered as he remembered the sight of that hulking monstrosity that would eventually stand in their way. His attack had managed to buy enough time for an escape, but neither he nor his Servant seemed to be able to even scratch that thing.

His heart began to race faster and faster, the loud pounding in his chest drowning out the surrounding sounds. The beast roared in his mind, an inhuman cry that shook even his soul. It was just like that time, the time before he became Shirou Giovanna. A monster that mortal man wasn't meant to face was his enemy, and his powerlessness was made all the more clear by that encounter.

"Master, get a hold of yourself, we are not in any current danger!" A pair of hands grabbed his jacket and started to shake him, pulling him out of his thoughts. Shirou took a deep breath, realizing what had just happened to him.

"I'm alright, Saber, I'm not sure what came over me." Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, Shirou looked away from his Servant in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. He didn't want anyone to see that side of him, the weak, scared child he once was. He had thought he had beaten those fears, but evidently his fight with Berserker had dredged up some unresolved emotions. "I must just be tired, to let my imagination overtake my conscious thoughts like that."

"Are you afraid, Master? Afraid of Berserker, afraid that we cannot defeat them?" Mordred's concern was soon replaced with a look of annoyance. "Do you not think I can face Berserker? That time he may have bested me, but I had already gone through two prior battles that very night, I was not at full capacity!"

"And even if you were, that... _thing_ isn't something we can handle ourselves!" Shirou knew Mordred had a short temper, that raising his voice would easily anger her further, but he couldn't let things continue as they were. He had tried to manage her by going along with her difficult personality, but this wasn't an issue he could back down on. "Berserker is so strong… so above other Servants even, I doubt there's a single person in this war that could defeat them alone."

"I'm not alone, Master, I have you."

"And I'm saying that won't be enough! Even if you distract Berserker long enough for me to slip past them and kill their Master, they would still have enough mana left over to kill us both in a rage! No, to beat this enemy we'd need at least two, most likely three Servants."

"Am I not good enough for you, Master? You summon the strongest Class and yet you want more? Such greed could rival even the kings of my era. Heh, I'm not sure whether to be insulted or impressed."

"It's not that… god, you're impossible to deal with sometimes, you take everything as a personal insult!" Shirou's mind raced, trying to figure out a way past this confrontation that didn't end with him impaled on his own Servant's blade. "There are battles that you can't win without help, you as a knight should know that. A king can't win a war without an army, if you don't see that then maybe… maybe your father was right about you."

It was an intensely risky gamble, his words were aimed right at Mordred's weak points, if they angered her too much he wouldn't be able to survive her wrath. But since she hadn't immediately killed him the young Gang-Star was hopeful it had worked. If he played on her complex so that she would take the path most similar to her Father, that would lead to only one result…

"Fine, have it your way, _Master._" Mordred looked up at him, her expression darkening. Turning away from him she walked down the street towards the Giovanna estate. "Go ahead and gather your little army, but leave me out of it until it's time to strike down our opponents, since that seems to be the only thing I'm good for."

Shirou gritted his teeth, unable to think of a response to her he simply let her walk away in silence. He was determined to win the war at any cost, but he still didn't want things to be this way. Mordred was impossibly difficult, abrasive, hotheaded, reckless… just like her Master. Their twisted personalities both arose from intense trauma in their pasts, and he had just coldly used that to manipulate her into doing what he wanted.

"Giorno… is this what you would have done?" Shirou dropped his head into his open hand, hiding his face from the still present Tatsuki. He based his entire life off of Giorno, or at least, his image of Giorno, but could he really be that person? He couldn't hide his emotions nearly as well, often times not at all. He was no master manipulator, Shinji was more suited for that role, and above all else… he lacked Giorno's confidence. When the Boss of Passione committed to something, he wouldn't back down, he wouldn't question if it was the right thing to do, he just did it. Could he ever have this strength of conviction? It seemed to be a dream that never got any closer to being reality.

Returning home, Shirou departed from Tatsuki at the main gate and headed straight to his room. He didn't see any sign of Giorno and Arturia having returned yet, but they could handle themselves. Somewhat comforting was the red leather jacket hanging in the entrance, letting him rest easy knowing Mordred hadn't completely abandoned him yet.

He wanted to talk to her, to apologize for what he had said, but he didn't think now was a good time. He'd let her cool off a bit and while he did so, he would move forward with his plan to ally with more Masters against Berserker. Rin seemed like the obvious choice, she had already agreed to a ceasefire while they looked for Caster after all. Of the other Masters he knew there seemed like only one other choice, the transfer student Misaya Reiroukan. Lancer and his Master weren't likely to join him, and he was too afraid to even ask them.

And then there was one other potential ally, someone who by all rights should already be at his side. The winds of fate had pulled them apart, but he wouldn't let this be the end of their friendship without a fight. However, all of this could come later, for now Shirou just wanted to sleep. Falling into his bed without even bothering to change his clothes, Shirou's heavy eyelids quickly closed and he was out before he even realized.

* * *

Before he knew it, he was drifting through the strange world of dreams, but unlike what he was used to it wasn't a scene of destruction. There was no city burning around him, no inhuman monster towering over him. Instead, he was in a dimly lit room sitting at a large round wooden table. It took him a moment to figure out that this wasn't actually a dream, but a memory of his Servant, Mordred.

Viewing the scene of ancient Camelot through his Servant's eyes, he saw the other gathered knights of the round table, each as regal and impressive as the last. Directly before him sat a face he recognized well, though she showed none of the age of the current incarnation. Behind the seated Arturia Pendragon, in her full garb as the king of Britain, a mysterious man leaned against the stone walls, his long white hair cascading off his shoulders over an exquisite robe. Perhaps because he was experiencing this memory as Mordred and not himself he already knew exactly who this man was, the Magician of Flowers, Merlin.

The knights spoke at length about matters of war, planning their upcoming battles under the guidance of their eternally young King. The knight were serious but at the same time they were all clearly good friends, even the harsh Mordred and the stoic Arturia seemed to let their guards down around them. It instantly reminded Shirou of his Gang and the bonds that they had grown over the years. In this moment it seemed like nothing could possibly tear these friends apart, but he already knew this wouldn't last.

As the meeting adjourned, Mordred left first and walked down the hall, passing by the silent Merlin, who had remained closed lip the entire meeting. The half human, half incubus Magus' gaze fell softly on Mordred's masked face, stopping her in her tracks.

"Is there something you wish to speak with me about, Merlin?" retaining her knightly facade, Mordred, folded her armored arms over her chest in an aggressive posture. Perhaps her attitude was compensation for her small stature, but it seemed to have no effect on the ethereal Magus.

"No… I just thought I felt something peculiar in the air around you, but I was mistaken."

Satisfied with the answer, Mordred continued down the hall and turned at the first corner, disappearing from view. Suddenly, a strange disconnect filled Shirou's thoughts, wasn't he viewing this dream as Mordred? If so, how had he just witnessed her leave the room. Without warning, the surrounding room began to distort, seeming to melt away as it was replaced by an endless field of flowers. In this infinite garden, only two figures stood. Shirou, regaining his existence as a separate entity to Mordred, and the inhumanly beautiful magus known as Merlin.

"There, this is more comfortable than that stuffy old castle, wouldn't you agree?" Falling backwards against the grass at his feet, Merlin's expression showed an almost childlike joy. Shirou had heard stories from Arturia about how eccentric Merlin was, but he wasn't sure this is what he was expecting. "Well? Are you going to sit or not? I've been waiting quite the long time to speak with you, you know?"

"I- I don't understand, this is just a dream..."

"And what part of it being a dream prevents us from talking? You can talk in a dream, in fact you just have." Waving his hand lightly through the air, a gust of wind knocked Shirou down. It was obvious that whatever was going on, Merlin was the one in charge. "Dreams you see, are my realm. Like you move freely through the waking world, I too can do the same with dreams. When I foresaw this day all those centuries ago..."

Merlin stopped mid sentence, his eyes flashing with a sudden sadness that hadn't existed there before.

"Don't give up on her, she's as stubborn as her 'father' and as ruthless as her mother, but she's still a good girl at heart." Merlin sat up, resting his arm on his knee, and gazed over at the still prone Shirou. "Things might be tough now, and they're not going to get any easier… but if one incarnation of her, if even for a single day, could be saved..."

"Heh, if you really are Merlin, then you can see the outcome of this conversation before it happens, right?" Hopping to his feet, Shirou swiped his hand through his hair and smirked. "So you should alright know that giving up isn't even in my vocabulary."

"A common trait of humanity, but not an unwelcome one." Looking off into the endless sky before them, Merlin stood up and took a step away from Shirou before looking back over his shoulder. "Tell Arturia that when she finds herself in Avalon,no I'll be waiting."

Waving as he walked off, the dream dissolved into pure white, and Shirou's eyes snapped open. Even with all of the bizarre things he had seen in his life, he still found it hard to believe that was real. But he couldn't deny that it didn't feel like either a dream or the shared memories of his Servant.

Shirou shook the strange scene from his mind, he had more important things to worry about then hallucinations of ancient wizards. The sky was still dark outside but he didn't bother trying to sleep any longer.

Berserker wasn't a foe anyone could take lightly, but having felt his strength personally Shirou know it was more than that. Berserker was on a different scale entirely to the rest of the Servants summoned, it would take a miracle to defeat him. Luckily Shirou was a firm believer in miracles, not in the kind most think of, divine intervention or impossible luck. No, the miracles he trusted were those created with his own hands, the same kind that Giorno wielded so easily.

If Berserker took a miracle from the heavens to bring him to his knees, then he would just have to become that miracle. Wrapping his hand around a non existent blade handle, Shirou swung the phantom sword in front of him, a hazy image of sword he had originally pictured in a dream filling his mind. But no sword manifested, his Stand power unable to grasp the nature of the imagined sword.

He quickly threw on his school uniform and headed out of his room, passing Angelo and a few of the new recruits on his way. They exchanged no words, both too absorbed in their own worlds to even register they had passed. Shirou didn't see any sign of Mordred, but it wasn't as if he was looking to find her just now. He planned to fix their rapport soon enough, but first he had to show her his path was correct.

Finding Tatsuki asleep in front of the television in the main room, Shirou nudged the girl awake with his foot, perhaps being a bit more rough then he needed to be. The orange haired girl slowly blinked letting out a cute yawn before sitting up. She looked up at Shirou with drowsy eyes, only half able to comprehend where she was.

"Huh… Oh, Boss, it's just you." She stretched her arms up over her head and stood up, rubbing her neck with her left hand. "It's so early, you need somethin'?"

"Yeah, I do, and it's important." Shirou put one hand on the girl's shoulder and leaned in close so no one but the two of them would hear what he said. "I need you to keep your eye on Saber, make sure she doesn't do something stupid while I'm out, got it?"

"R-Rodger! I'll do my best, but I'm not sure what I can do if she-" Tatsuki's face paled at his request, what was she so nervous about?

"If she does something you can't stop, call me, don't try to force her or you're liable to end up in the next life prematurely."

"G-Got it, I'll observe carefully and keep you informed of anything I can't handle."

"I'll leave it to you then, good luck." Turning away, Shirou quickly exited the room into the hall, grabbed his school jacket, and left the house.

The longer he waited the less likely it was he could pull this off, and it was already a longshot as it stood. First he had to reach school before any of them did; would they even go to school during the Holy Grail War? He went over his plan again and again in his head, each time feeling less like he could manage it. But he had to try, you only fail if you give in after all.

Arriving at the school before anyone else, Shirou brought out three letters he had written the night before. Placing them at their designated locations, he headed for the roof to wait. It only took a few minutes for the first sign of other students to appear in the streets, so they should get his messages in no time.

Crossing his arms over his chest Shirou Giovanna slumped against the wall surrounding the roof. There he waited, thinking the others would arrive before he knew it. But it was another hour before anyone else appeared on the roof, had they really just gotten to school?

"Wow, you're actually here. What kind of idiot are you?" The voice that sounded out by the stairwell was none other than Rin Tohsaka, not sounding too happy to have received his invitation. "I know we agreed to stay out of each other's way on our hunt for Caster, but that doesn't make us allies, you know? And showing up to school without your Servant, do you have a deathwish?"

"Maybe I do, maybe I really am just an idiot, I don't know." Standing up, Shirou dusted off his clothes and looked over at the annoyed magus. "But I do know that you're smart, you wouldn't attack someone in broad daylight at school. After the war is over you still have to live in this town."

"I guess you thought this through more than I anticipated. But coming out alone is still foolish, the other Masters don't have such a restriction on them."

"And I'm not helpless either, like _some Masters_." The young Gang-Star ran his hand through his golden blond hair, flashing a smug smile at the already agitated Tohsaka. In the future he may come to regret this action, but the expression she made in response was too worth it.

"If that's how you negotiate an alliance, maybe I've wasted my time coming here." A third voice cut in, Shirou instantly recognizing it. Turning his head up he caught sight of the new arrival, sitting gracefully atop the stairwell roof. Just when did she have time to get up there without either of them noticing.

"Misaya Reiroukan, I see you've accepted my invitation." Shirou tilted his head to the side, flashing a smile at the raven haired beauty.

"Wait, you invited _her? _What good could come from that, what are you thinking, Shirou?"

Rin Tohsaka and Misaya Reiroukan were like two sides of the same coin, Both Magi from well off families, both Masters, but there was a subtle difference in their personalities. While Rin and Misaya both acted high and mighty, only the latter seemed to actually posses such a demeanor. Rin's cold persona was much more of an act, something he knew quite well.

But still, the similarities between the two caused more than a few sparks when they happened to cross paths. If he could have he'd have liked to avoid this meeting at all costs, but it wasn't possible to reach his endgame without it. As long as he could keep them from going at each other's throats for a few minutes he should be able to convince them.

This is partially why he antagonized Rin in the first place, if she was too focused on being mad at his actions maybe she'd ignore Misaya for the time being. It was a risky, suicidal plan, but it suited him just fine.

"If you've come here that means you've read my letters, and therefor already know what it is I want from you." Shirou put one hand in his jacket pocket and extended the other out towards the two women, his palm facing the clear sky.

"You want us to ally together to defeat Berserker, but isn't this somewhat overkill?" Misaya jumped down from her perch, landing with an elegance befitting her background. "Three Masters against one, surely this Servant can't be as powerful as you say. Especially considering a master like _you_ managed to escape."

"I really wish I didn't have to say this, but I agree with Misaya, I can't imagine Berserker being a big enough threat that we all need to work together against them, even Caster seems like a more worryi-"

"Caster is _nothing!_ You don't understand, you weren't there, you didn't see his inhuman ability, didn't feel his monstrous strength personally!" Shirou's heart felt like it was going to explode, each beat getting louder and louder in his ears. And then he was gone from the school roof, back in familiar surroundings.

A city burning around him, the smoke so thick he could barely breathe. His lungs burned from the smoke, his body from the flames. In the distance, a towering behemoth laid waste to everything it touched. He was powerless, his Stand was no match for a monster of this caliber. If only… if only he had a weapon that could defeat it, a golden sword like Excalibur that could cleave through that nightmarish scene. He reached out, taking hold of a sword hilt that he couldn't fully perceive, and then…

"Hey, are you feeling alright, you look pretty pale..." Rin's voice shook him out of his delusion, bring him back to reality. "You kind of spaced out there for a bit, maybe you should go rest in the infirmary?"

"Heh, you think this is anything to me? I've been through far worse, if this was all it took to break me… Then I've been broken for a long time already." Shirou composed himself and looked at the two women. Misaya showed no concern on her face for him, but that was normal, she was his enemy after all. Rin's concern quickly faded from the forefront of her expression, and so he continued his plan.

"Berserker is a monster that can't be stopped by a single Master, and not without a plan. Even Saber, the strongest Class was brought to their knees with ease, we had to flee after only a brief fight. And if the Einzbern Master had been serious about killing us… I wouldn't be standing here.""

"I've had enough of this foolishness, I'll show you not to underestimate me, _boy_." Misaya quickly turned around and began to leave the roof, opening the stairway door. "I'll say this right now to be clear, I have _zero_ intention of allying myself with anyone, the only one I can trust in this war is myself after all."

Shirou could only stand in silence, unable to say anything in response to the girl. He lacked the charisma of his mentor, so this was his limit. He had hoped to convince them to his point of view, but he lacked the understanding of how. He could almost laugh at his foolishness, no wonder he couldn't cooperate well with Saber if this was the best he could do with normal magi.

"Don't be so hasty, Misaya." Rin interjected, stepping between the black haired girl and the door. "If anything Shirou has said about Berserker's power is true… then we need to work together, there's plenty of time to decide a winner afterwards."

"Humph, with a weak-willed attitude like that it's no wonder the Tohsaka haven't ever pulled out a win. Don't lump me in with you lot of losers, I'll show you the strength of a true Master soon enough!"

Shoving Rin out of the way, Misaya stormed off down the stairs. Shirou clenched his teeth in frustration, wishing he could have said more. But even if Misaya was gone, Rin was still here. It wasn't ideal, but a two master partnership was better than going it alone. They had already basically agreed to a truce to deal with Caster, this would just be an extension of that.

"Since you haven't left, can I assume you're in?" Shirou struggled to regain his composure, but he could tell easily that Rin wasn't buying into his act. Even so, he continued to put on his facade, it made talking to such an intimidating beauty less of a nerve-wracking experience.

"I am, for now. You still haven't proven yourself a trustworthy or even useful ally, but I'd rather not do things alone. Besides, you've already helped me out a few times, I need to repay the favor, I can't stand being in anyone's debt." Rin folded her arms across her chest and puff up her cheeks angrily, turning her face away from Shirou. "T-That doesn't count, Archer, those renovations were necessary!"

Shirou felt a sudden sense of relief, guess he wasn't the only one having problems managing his Servant. Aside from that passing thought, having Rin Tohsaka as an ally could only help, considering she showed more interest in mitigating the damage of the war than actually fighting it.

"I'll do my best to earn your trust, Rin. I'll start planning how to handle Berserker with the two of us, try not to get killed before then." Shirou walked towards the fence surrounding the roof, his Stand forming next to him. "Oh, and you don't need to worry about Caster either, the Saber class is a natural counter after all. We'll handle that troublemaker, so save your strength for when it's needed."

"Y-You don't have to tell me that, moron! I was already planning on leaving Caster to you after yesterday, you know!"

"Sure, sure." Waving at Rin without looking back, Shirou jumped into the air, his Stand grabbing him at the waist and lifting him over the fence. Instead of freefalling down to the ground floor the metallic spirit slowly drifted down into the back of the courtyard, disappearing as soon as it's user safety touched the earth.

It hadn't been the action itself, but the way he had done it so casually, as if it was the most logical way to exit the conversation that worried Rin. What had she gotten into, teaming up with such a weird person? While magi were often eccentric, this was far more akin to madness.

* * *

"Haahh," Shirou slumped against the school wall, his stand quickly dissipating. He took a deep breath, letting his rapidly beating heart slow back to normal. Somehow he had pulled it off, at least partially. The pressure of dealing with two Magi, Masters even, had been more than he'd expected. The fledgling gang-star was just about ready to collapse when he heard the faint sound of movement to his side. His eyes darting to the left as soon as he heard the noise, his vision landed on the sour expression of a man he knew quite well.

His invitation to form an alliance had been for three, but the third had refused to show up in the end. Shirou had hoped he could kill two birds with one stone by inviting him, both in persuading the others to his side and repairing his strained friendship, so when he hadn't seen him on the roof Shirou couldn't help but feel dejected.

"Shinji, then you _did_ read my message." Shirou relaxed his stance, his instincts still telling him that the man before him was an ally despite what had happened before. "That's just like you to wait until the last moment to appear, I was worried you wouldn't show."

"What do you take me for, Shirou, of course I read it. To be honest, I wasn't even going to come, but I thought I should tell this to you in person, so it might get through that thick skull of yours." Crossing his arms, Shinji scowled. "I already told you this once, but I intend to win the war on my own, Servant or not. I don't want or need your help, I have no intention of teaming up with you or any other Master, especially not Tohsaka."

"Yeah, I guess I expected that." Shirou sighed, his friend's rejection almost seeming like a relief to him. In the uncertainly of the Holy Grail War, at least Shinji's personality had remained the same. "you were definitely a longshot, even compared to Misaya."

Shinji had lived for years with a shadow over him, the inability to succeed his family's magecraft due to non functioning circuits. So when Giorno had healed him during those trying times years back, the boy felt he had something to prove. His struggles had all led him to this point, where he could finally stand on his own, but he still couldn't reach his dream. Rejected by the Grail must have been a devastating blow, but Shinji had built a strong will over the years.

In a way, Shinji was a similar existence to Shirou. Constantly overshadowed by others, unable to achieve their goals alone. That helplessness despite their power was something that resonated between the two boys, perhaps that was why they had become friends in the first place. Shirou more than anyone else could understand Shinji, and if he was in the young magi's position he would likely do exactly the same thing.

Most people assumed that Shinji was only friends with Shirou do to his family connections, using him as leverage in the Gang. Or perhaps he was only useful as a bodyguard, because he was always there to pull Shinji out of any sort of fight his arrogance got him into. But none of that mattered to Shirou, even if Shinji said that their relationship was like that, he would still be friends with him. Because they shared a connection, even if Shinji didn't realize it.

But that Connection between them had been strained to its limit by this war, and soon they would likely be enemies. Shirou's heart sank at the notion, but he couldn't turn away from reality. They both wanted to win the war to prove themselves, and that clash was seemingly inevitable now. Even without a Servant Shinji was still a powerful magus, and could pose a serious threat if he played correctly.

Shirou shuddered at the thought of fighting his best friend, both for the horror of having to possibly kill another person he cared about, and for the fact that Shinji might be his strongest foe. Against a Stand User, knowing how their ability functioned gives their opponent a serious advantage, and over the years Shinji had become quite accustomed to Shirou's peculiar combat style.

"So this is how it ends… I thought it would hurt more" The Gang Star looked at the ground, averting his eyes from his former friend. "It still doesn't feel real, does it really have to be like this, Shinji?"

"Our fates were set the moment the seals appeared on your body." Shinji slowly walked towards Shirou, the latter's body tensing up at the action. But the magus did not attack, he merely placed his hand on Shirou's shoulder, looking him in the eye. "I wish things had turned out differently, but it just wasn't our destiny."

Shinji's face, normally filled with a casual arrogance was as solid as stone. No longer was the boy smirking as if the world was a joke to him; it was the same expression he wore in the weeks after Sakura had died. The grim expression of the boy that was once his greatest ally and friend sealed the reality of the situation into his mind, it really was the end.

"Shinji, you know what it means to make an enemy out of me, don't you?" Shirou steeled his own expression, pushing Shinji's hand off his shoulder and taking a step back. Summoning a sword in his hand, Shirou rushed towards Shinji, his blade stopping millimeters from his neck. "I won't hold back against you just because of our history, even if it means your death, my resolve is to win the war."

"Likewise, my friend." His smirk returning for a moment, Shirou noticed that Shinji's left hand had found it's way past his guard, a powerful energy emanating from it. "I've always wanted to know which was faster, your Blade Works or my Magecraft, wanna find out once and for all?"

To mentally prepare a spell so quickly, while under the pressure of an enemy attack, Shinji really was a step above most magi. His talent outshined even Rin Tohsaka, who could easily be considered a prodigy. Lowing his blade, Shirou backed away from the magus.

"Oh? A wise decision from the reckless Shirou Giovanna for once, I'm impressed." Shinji lowered his hand into his pocket and turned away from the gangster. Looking back over his shoulder, Shinji spoke one last, final statement. "When we next meet, it'll be as enemies, and I _will_ remove any obstacles from my path.

And he left Shirou standing there, each step he took away from the young blonde increasing the gap between them in spirit as well as distance.


End file.
